I'm almost me again
by Bald Unicorn
Summary: Five times Randy could deal with not being The Ninja anymore and the one time he couldn't. (Sequel to But it was funny, huh)
1. First Time

This is a sequel to my other fics _Can't Remember, Can't Forget_ and _But it was funny huh_. To summarize, if you haven't read them and don't want to: this is set post-high school, where the mantle of Ninja has been passed to someone else. The Nomicon has let Randy remember his time as the Ninja and his time with the Secret Trio. Randy didn't tell his friends about the mind-wipe and they are still somewhat angry, and Randy is still somewhat sad about not being the Ninja.

That's about it!

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

i.

"How's life, Jake?" Randy asks, a ridiculously caffeinated coffee in his hands.

He sips on it carefully, knowing he will be unbearably hyper later and Howard will hate him for it.

Randy is already smiling at the thought.

"College is kicking my butt, man." Jake tells him, toying with the lid to his own coffee. "I signed up for this degree plan to help me with Am-Drag biz – and me and my family agree, it's the right decision – but I still have to figure out a way to make real money with that. I can't figure out what jobs a mythology degree really helps with."

Jake sighs, a hint of something clouding the air before him. Randy can't tell if it's dragon-y steam or just his breath fogging up the air, though personally Randy doesn't think it's cold enough to see one's breath outside yet, not even here in New York.

"School is hard, man." Jake says. "Too many essays."

"Essays are so wonk." Randy agrees.

He takes another sip of his coffee and reminds himself that Danny complains even worse than this – even worse than Howard, sometimes, though that has yet to be proven definitively.

"How 'bout your crew?" Randy says, trying to steer the conversation towards something fun. "How's Trixie and Spud?"

At their names, Jake smiles so wide his fangs gleam in the sun.

"They're doing good. We always try and meet up in person every weekend and catch up with each other. Trixie is doing pre-med, well on her way to becoming Doctor Carter."

Randy has a difficult time imagining her as a real live doctor – once you've seen someone faceplant off a skateboard and fall head-first into a magical portal, it's impossible to picture them as a professional adult person – but he smiles all the same, happy for her.

"She says she's dying under all the work, but I know she's loving it. All that biology and medicine stuff is really interesting to her."

"And what's Spud doing now?" Randy wants to know.

"He's taking some engineering classes at Columbia University. I don't think he wants a degree, really. Just likes learning something new. He's really enjoying classes that are finally a challenge for him."

Randy's brain gets stuck on that.

"We're talking about the same Spud, right? Who froze his tongue to a telephone pole _more than once_? Who can barely tie his own shoe laces? That Spud?"

"Hey!" Jake protests, but it's half-hearted at best.

"I know he's good with like, computers and stuff," Randy carries on. "But he's – I can't – he's _Spud. _"

Jake laughs.

"Well, yeah. Common sense isn't his thing. But stuff like Physics, Calculus, Engineering – it's easier than breathing for him."

Randy makes a hmm noise, not agreeing nor disagreeing. Jake wouldn't lie to him, but all the same, Randy can't picture that side of Spud. Actually going to class, doing assignments, acting competent.

"Would you believe that his school actually begged him to enroll?" Jake asks with a grin.

"Now you're just messing with me."

"Nah, man. Columbia got a hold of his SAT scores and offered him all these scholarships to enroll." Jake shrugs, adding, "Spud didn't really want to go to college, but his parents told him it was too good a deal not to take, so."

Randy gapes at Jake, head reeling.

"My life is a lie." He whispers. "Spud is actually..._ smart_."

"Don't worry, dude. It throws everyone off at first." Jake reassures him.

Then a thought occurs to Randy.

"Do you think he'd do my College Algebra homework for me?"

They both laugh at that.

It's quiet for a moment afterwards. The cool morning air feels crisp, even nice to Randy, with a warm beverage in his hands.

Another face pops into his mind. Someone else to check up on.

"What about your friend, what's-her-face? Daisy?" Randy asks, purposely getting her name wrong.

"_Rose_," Jake says, emphasizing the word, "Is fine. She really loves living in Hong Kong with her family. Says she's almost got a handle on Cantonese."

Randy raises an eyebrow, smiling slyly.

"So you're talked to her lately."

Jake opens his mouth, shuts it. He ends up just shrugging.

"I mean...some. We went for lunch last month, nothing big. Just – just to catch up and stuff!" He hurries to add. His face is turning red.

"Sure, sure."

"Shut up, dude."

"I didn't say anything! ...Yet."

"You didn't have to! You're doing the eyebrow thing!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Jake rolls his eyes, blush still in place on his features. It's amazing really. It's almost the color of his scarlet jacket.

Randy decides to stop his teasing. He's a nice guy like that.

"And is she going to college?"

Jake blinks.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. She wants to get a job in social services. She likes the idea of making sure kids are safe and loved."

This is an even stranger thought than Trixie becoming 'Doctor Carter'.

Randy tries to picture it – Rose, in her hunter gear, all features but her cold blue eyes hidden behind a mask, looking over kids and paperwork with weapons in her hands and derision in her voice.

It seems ridiculous.

Randy knows that she's different around humans. Still, it's difficult to get over your first impression of someone.

Randy thinks he's had several first impressions of Jake's crush Rose;

First, when she was fighting against Jake, and therefore Randy and Danny; again later on, when she did a 180 and started fighting side-by-side with Jake; and finally when Randy met her as a regular high school student.

That last time was horrifying – Randy was absolutely floored to find her wearing _pink _and _giggling _like she had feelings and wasn't just a scarily competent robot intent on breaking Jake's heart.

"Good for her." Is all Randy tells Jake in the present. Even he knows well enough not to say all of that robot stuff out loud.

However scary Rose seems to Randy, Jake has been crushing on her for _years_. Friends don't talk bad about other friends' crushes.

"How about you, R-man?" Jake asks suddenly.

It's such a change of topic that Randy's brain makes that horrible screeching sound when you slam on your car brakes too hard, his slow mind feebly attempting to switch directions.

"Hmm?" He says eloquently.

Jake shrugs and offers him a grin.

"I feel like I've been boring you with my life for hours. How are things going for you?"

Oh. Right. Randy has a life too. He'd just been so curious to reconnect with Jake's dragon-y, New York-y life that he'd forgotten that he's supposed to have an equal amount news to share.

It doesn't exactly _bother _Randy that he doesn't. If living a near-identical life from two years ago – going to school, hanging out with Howard, kicking butt at video games, and generally having as much fun as possible in Norrisville at all times – if it really bothered him, Randy wouldn't still be living it.

It does make him self-conscious, though. It's a lot like the feeling of forgetting you left the stove on; Randy faintly feels the obligation to have done _something_, though he can't place his finger on what.

None of that matters, of course. Jake isn't going to judge him.

Jake knew what he was getting into with this friendship.

"Well," Randy says after a moment, heaving a sigh. "I'm bored."

Jake stares at him. He holds up a finger, takes a long sip of his coffee, puts it back down and stares some more.

No, wait, maybe that's glaring.

It occurs to Randy that he's miscalculated and Jake might, possibly, be judging him after all.

"I would _love _to be bored." Jake says seriously. "How do you have time to be bored?"

Randy snorts.

He bumps his head laying it on the table, laughing near to tears. His coffee doesn't spill though. He has priorities.

A beat or so later, he smiles as he sits back up, ignoring Jake's eye roll.

"I dunno. I guess I just have more free time now that I'm not, you know," He lowers his voice just in case. "The Ninja."

"And...how, uh – how are you doing with that?"

Jake won't meet his eyes as he says that. He's sipping almost nervously at the remnants of his coffee, gaze fixed on the table.

Randy shrugs.

"It's the way of the world, man. Every four years a new ninja is chosen, blah blah blah. It took up so much of my time, though, and now I have no idea what to fill it with."

As abruptly as Jake's refusal of eye-contact came, it disappears, Jake squinting at him as he sets down his coffee cup.

"So you're – you're okay?"

Now things are starting to get awkward.

Randy finds himself leaning back in his seat to get away from those dark, disturbingly lizard-like eyes.

"I am the super bruce cheese." Randy promises, confused.

He thinks about things for a moment and amends it with,

"I'm the super bruce _bored _cheese."

Jake laughs, startled out of his intensity. He leans back too.

"Good, Randy." He says. "I'm glad."

It isn't clear why Randy wouldn't be alright, when they saw each other a few days ago, and only a month or so ago before that, and nothing has changed since then. Or...maybe just the memory thing. And the whole Jake-knowing-that-Randy-remembers thing.

Everything else, however, remains the same.

And it's the truth; Randy is _fine_. He's alright. Bored, perhaps, and sleepy, and unsure of his future – but then, isn't that every college student?

There are those brief moments where he longs for something that isn't his anymore, but that happened even with his memory gone. That was already part of his life. There shouldn't be anything new for him to adjust to.

There shouldn't be anything _wrong_.

"Howard's fine too, in case you were wondering." Randy informs Jake.

"I wasn't. But that's good."

It's easy enough to push lingering sad thoughts away and focus his mind on lighter things, like his friend Jake in front of him.

Sunlight filters through the trees at his back and rests warm on Jake's face. Taking a moment to study it, Randy realizes this isn't the kid he met years ago, arrogant and ready to fight or show off at every occasion – nor is it Jake of later years, hardworking and stressed to the point of using desperate measures to relax and feel normal for _one freaking week_.

This is a new Jake Long; mature, comfortable with his role in life, and more caring than ever. He's worried not about Rose, or balancing two lives, but concerned with how his friends are doing. How _Randy _is doing.

In a surprising rush of emotion (happy, _very happy_), Randy says,

"It's really good to see you again, Jake."

"You too, RC." Jake smiles wide at him, pauses, then adds in a rush, "I'm still mad about the fact that you never told us about the Ninja succession thing in the first place."

"Way to ruin the moment."

"I'm just sayin' – you could've saved us a lot of drama. You don't know how to text, call? Tell us face-to-face?"

Randy rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and hunching over slightly.

"I didn't know about the mind wipe at first."

"...and later? When you did know, why didn't you tell me and Danny?"

Randy thinks about his answer awhile. Sometimes it's the truth that's more difficult to sell than lies.

"Would you believe me," He asks slowly, "if I said I forgot about it?"

Jake silently shakes his head.

"I mean, there were extenuating circumstances!" Randy says. "End of senior year, I broke my phone. Lost everyone's number. I was busy and I knew you guys were busy and – and before I knew it, my time as The Ninja was up and I hadn't told you yet."

"Really?" Jake sounds skeptical. He sounds like this isn't enough of an explanation or an apology.

Randy nervously gnaws on his lip for a second.

He says,

"I put it off for too long. I didn't mean to leave you guys in the dark. It was just one of those things you always _say _you're going to do but never get around to, you know, and – and I'm sorry I never got around to. It was going to be hard enough to deal with on my own and I guess I just didn't want to involve you."

Randy forces himself to continue.

"But you're right…you guys deserved to hear it from me. I can't go back in time and fix that so – um, I'm just...really, _really _sorry."

Despite Randy's sincere if not eloquent apology, Jake still needs time to think it over.

This could make or break their friendship, Randy realizes in the interim. They did this already, went through the anger and apologies but – Jake never said he forgave him. Never claimed to be over it. Even after a few days to think things over and calm down, Jake says he's still angry.

Randy takes a shaky drink from his coffee as he waits.

Finally, Jake shrugs.

"I guess it's cool, man. Just – never again, alright? Never keep something _this big _from us again."

"Never again." Randy promises, relieved.

He doesn't think it's a promise he'll have to work to keep.

After all, he isn't the Ninja anymore.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you for reading! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!


	2. Second Time

Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed!

* * *

ii.

"Should've used the sword." Randy mutters to himself.

Beside him on the sidewalk, both slowly trekking the five minute walk to Greg's Game Hole, Howard sighs and nudges him in the ribs.

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

Randy doesn't take his eyes off of the battle raging about a block away. It's about a dozen robots against the Ninja and as of this second, no one appears to be winning, certainly not the owners of those two cars that just got smashed as collateral damage.

Randy hopes they had good insurance.

"You're back-seat Ninja-ing, Cunningham." Howard tells him. "Come on, you said you weren't going to do this."

"When did I say – no, no no, that's not an Electro Ball! That's a Bee Ball! What's that gonna do against robots?"

"Cunningham." Howard jerks on Randy's hoodie, forcing him to whirl around and face his friend.

Randy scowls and flails his arms to get out of the grip.

"What was that for?"

Howard puts his hands on Randy's shoulders. He takes a deep breath and ignores Randy's attempts to shrug him off. Howard is like _breathing into Randy's face_, and it smells like day old tacos, and seriously, the Ninja is wonking up this fight in a major way that Randy would _never _have, like where is his chain-sickle?

"Cunningham, listen to me!"

"Okay, geez, _what_?" Randy finally tears his gaze away from the battle.

It's almost creepy, seeing his best friend so serious up close.

"You're not the Ninja anymore, Cunningham." Howard says.

Randy falters, annoyance trickling away.

It feels like he got punched in the stomach.

"I.." He swallows hard. "I know that, Howard."

"Do you? Are you sure? Because you've been acting like someone who's still the Ninja."

"Not true. _Very_ not true."

Howard has an incredibly irritating gaze. His eyes have always seen right through Randy – through lies and pretenses, even through to truths Randy himself refuses to face.

He drops his grip on Randy's shoulders, but he doesn't step back.

"I was as glad as anyone when you got your memories back, Cunningham." Howard says. "But you _promised_. You told the Nomicon you weren't going to go all Mac Antfee."

It's almost dizzying to see his best friend so solemn, so sincere, so..._concerned. _Howard cares, sure, but he doesn't like people to _see _that he cares. According to him, it'd ruin his 'image' or something.

Randy struggles under the weight of this intense scrutiny.

"I know what I said, Howard. And I'm not – I won't end up like him. I gave my word. Nomicon would mind wipe me again if I went back on it."

Howard rolls his eyes, breaking the spell that roots Randy to the spot, that clenches his chest and turns his stomach.

"See, I hear you saying that," Howard says. "But you haven't been listening to a word I've said since we spotted the Ninja on our way here. You're too wrapped up in what _you _would do and how _you _could've ended things quicker. You're talking a lot like someone who wants to get mind wiped again."

"Nuh-uh." Randy replies immediately. "I just...I'm getting used to not being the Ninja anymore. I-I don't – I'm not going to _take _the Suit back. I'm not going to even – even talk to him! It's just annoying that he isn't Ninja-ing better, is all!"

Howard raises an eyebrow at him.

"You were pretty bad when you first started, too. Let him _be_, Cunningham."

It's a simple enough request. It makes sense – how peeved would Randy have been if the previous Ninja (having somehow miraculously remembered) was going around grumbling and complaining about how he could've done it better?

Peeved, of course. Really peeved.

Randy gets that.

_Let him be, _Howard says.

A task so simple, it requires no action. All he has to do is _nothing_.

Even so, a voice in the back of his mind whispers,

_What if I can't?_

And Randy stands there for five seconds, ten, twenty, trying to come up with a response that he needs to be true and that Howard will believe.

"Okay." He says finally. "Okay, I'll leave him be. No problem."

The two of them know it's a lie. Randy scrambles to come up with something to distract Howard with before his friend can call him on it, yet his brain just shrugs at him, leaving him in the lurch.

Howard doesn't sigh. He doesn't roll his eyes. He doesn't point his finger in Randy's face and chant, 'liar liar pants on fire'.

What he says instead is this,

"Prove it."

Randy falters in his footing, even though he's standing completely still.

"Um...What?"

"Prove you can let this go."

"Okay." Randy would be lying if he said he wasn't wary. "How...do I do that?"

"One day. Go one full day without talking about the Ninja – without mentioning him _at all_ – and you win. You get, I dunno, bragging rights or something. If you _can't_ do it, you will – "

Howard hesitates, tapping his chin as he thinks of something he wants. "– you will admit I was right and buy me a meal at McClucker's."

"But I already do th– I mean, yeah. Sure. Sounds bruce. I can win this no problem."

Randy sounds about as confident as he feels.

Again, Howard doesn't call him on it.

Again, all he says is,

"So prove it."

Randy nods like he actually thinks he can do this.

"Wait, are we starting now?"

"_Yes_, we're starting now!"

"Okay, I just wasn't sure and –"

"We have already started!"

"Fine!" Randy yells. "Fine, let's continue walking down this totally average street with absolutely nothing interesting happening behind us!"

Howard smirks at him. He looks like he's already won the bet.

"Sure, Cunningham."

* * *

Randy feels himself twitching, periodically. It's like he's a caffeine addict who hasn't had his coffee today.

He didn't realize how much he thought about the Ninja until he couldn't say anything about the subject.

It's distracting. He's off his game with DDR, with Grave Puncher, with all of the games.

When he catches glimpses of the Ninja fighting right outside the arcade's windows, he has to actively bite his lip to keep from mentioning it.

It's not his fault, if the Ninja would just _use the sword_ –

"Ooh, look at that, I win again!" Howard says.

Randy realizes his gaze crept away from the game and blinks it back into focus. His player has died and Howard's player does the best victory dance it can manage in Mortal Kombat.

"Aw, what the juice?!"

Randy almost _always _wins Mortal Kombat.

"What's the matter, Cunningham?" Howard smirks. "Are you..._distracted_ by something?"

"I am distracted by nothing." Randy says.

"Good, cause we're going again."

"Good."

"Great."

"Awesome!" Randy snaps back. He's still twitching somewhat, but this time he's better about blocking out spots of red and black, and ignoring various crashes and the sound of metal on metal.

* * *

The rest of the day crawls by.

Randy is sure nothing has ever felt so slow and grating, not even high school.

He gets close, is the thing.

He gets really, _really _close.

Fate, as usual, works against him.

Apparently, the fight has escalated in the hours they've been in the Game Hole – which is beyond wonk, like how long could one battle with a couple of robots possibly take, come _on_ current Ninja, do better – and they run into it on their way home. Not literally, though it is a close thing.

Ninja is battling it out in the street, out of breath and seemingly exhausted, and while there is no more army, the one giant robot still kicking doesn't let him leave, doesn't let him run away for a second.

Anger and worry begin to mix in Randy's gut.

This Ninja is still doing poorly. This Ninja has no one watching his back.

"Cunningham?" Howard says.

Randy realizes he's stopped walking.

They are a block away. A _block away _from home. And Randy is so close to winning this stupid bet with Howard and he so rarely wins their bets.

"The weak point is on its back." Randy realizes next, elation curling up in his belly near identical to the feeling he gets (_got_) when he pieces together the practical application of Nomicon wisdom.

He finds himself shouting before he knows it,

"Ninja! Ninja, listen, the robot has a loose panel on the back! That's its weak point!"

This Ninja flips backwards from the robot, coming closer to Randy's side of the street.

"What?" He yells back, barely bringing his sword up in time to block a hit.

Randy cups his hands around his mouth.

"I said, STAB IT IN THE BACK!"

"What?" Ninja says again. "The back? Why?"

_You are a total shoob_, Randy thinks.

"Because, Ninja, that's ITS WEAK POINT!"

And Ninja goes,

"Huh."

It's not in the confused way people usually say '_huh_', but rather in the interested, considering way people say '_huh_'.

Within seconds, Ninja slides underneath the robot's lower limbs (Randy doesn't feel comfortable calling those weird metal tubes 'legs') and rolls up to cling to its other side.

"For Norrisville!" The Ninja cries, raising his sword high to plunge it into metal and cables and a robotic heart.

With that, the electronic beast crashes to the ground and lies still.

The scene would've been a lot cooler without the weird battle cry/dedication thing, Randy thinks, rolling his eyes at the Ninja wheezing out "Smoke...bomb…" and disappearing.

Then life catches up to Randy again.

"Oh no. No no no no." He turns to find his best friend smirking at him, arms crossed and expression satisfied.

Howard was expecting this. Howard knew he couldn't do this, couldn't win the bet.

"That totally counts, Cunningham. You said his name, you talked to him, that _counts_."

"Fine! You win." Randy admits, unable to deny it, bitterness heavy in his voice. "I can't go one day without talking about the Ninja. You happy now?"

"Yes, I am. I got a free dinner out of it, as well as the usual pleasure of being right."

"Congrats." Randy deadpans.

"Yep. Things are going pretty great for Howard today."

Randy takes this time to lament having a poor winner for a best friend. Like seriously, can't he just let it _go_?

"Seriously, though, Cunningham, you got close." Howard says, shrugging. "I mean, you were never gonna make it the _whole _day, you don't have that kind of willpower or attention span – "

"_I _don't have the attention span?" Randy interrupts, incredulous. "_You_'_re_ the one who can't go a whole movie without pulling up a _different _movie to watch on your phone!"

"_But_ –" Howard ignores him. "I must admit that you're making progress. If Ninja hadn't been so close, you probably, _maybe _could've won. Maybe you just need to start easier next time, like go one day without judging the Ninja, or saying what he should've done or something. Build up to letting go."

It's Howard, and it's Howard rubbing it in his face how he was right and how Randy hasn't moved on, but...Randy still feels something soften behind his ribcage. A knot of tension and pressure that's been steadily increasing ever since he remembered and needed to _learn _to let go.

It's that one sentence.

_You're making progress_.

As if Howard understands that Randy wants to move on, he _has _to move on or _else_, but maybe he's not capable just yet.

Like Howard's given him a backhanded compliment, Randy is offended yet relieved and perhaps a little grateful.

Randy blows out a sigh.

"It's..._hard_." He admits, voice small. "I thought I could do it. I thought it'd be no problem, like–like before. This was easier the first time, you know? A one and done kind of deal. But now that I remember… Nomicon was right. It's _hard_, knowing how cool and heroic the Ninja is, how cool _I _was. I was something more. A-and watching someone else be that…."

Randy doesn't have the words nor the emotional maturity to explain the twisted up feelings that keep threatening to choke him at inconvenient times.

He doesn't hate the new Ninja. He was genuinely worried about him, only moments ago. And he _is _glad to have his memories back.

All the same…

Things are not perfect.

"It's just hard." He finishes finally.

It's always a low moment for him, admitting that Howard is right. This time, it's maybe not so low.

Howard pats his shoulder.

"I know, Cunningham. But you'll get there. And hey! I'm always here to help."

He is, isn't he?

"Okay, okay. Enough of that. I think you owe me an extra large bucket of chicken."

Randy laughs.

"Fine, sure." They go there most nights away. "And...thanks, man. For being there."


	3. Third Time

iii.

Randy had forgotten what Amity Park was like.

He's been told on multiple occasions how strange Norrisville is, even if he can't see its weirdness anymore, but it has nothing on Danny's home town.

Parts of it are always under construction. That is something that really gets to Randy – his city has robots and monsters and a Ninja that (however reluctantly) destroys property frequently, but his town _also _has a billionaire willing to fix most property within days.

Seeing lines of orange cones and taped off buildings that stay that way for _months _boggles his mind.

Then there's the sky. It's tinged green, like ghost pollution is a thing. Or maybe so many ghost portals have opened up here that the Ghost Zone is starting to leak through.

Mostly, though, Randy thinks it's people of Amity Park that are really bizarre.

They have grown tough, since ghosts have invaded their lives over and over again. They wear protective gear; they usually have something usable as a weapon on them at all times; and they fluctuate wildly on their opinions of Danny.

Norrisville has always loved the Ninja. Norrisville has a _holiday _dedicated to the Ninja. Norrisville cannot function without him.

Amity Park, on the other hand, has hunted Danny Phantom on many separate occurrences. They have also built a statute for him. That they later tore down, then put back up. They always either hate him or love him – and they often do both within the same week.

Randy drives into town for the first time in over a year (well technically he's never actually _driven _in before – Danny flies him, or finds him a portal to swing through) with Howard in the passenger seat, both looking out at Amity Park and wondering at its freakiness.

Randy doesn't think it's bad.

It's just...weird.

"How is it that this town gets worse each time we come here?" Howard says, interrupting Randy's thoughts.

Randy sighs. Well, the introspection was nice while it lasted.

"Come on, Amity Park isn't that bad." He argues. "It's not East Speesleton."

Howard raises an eyebrow at him.

"It's not much better either, Cunningham."

Randy rolls his eyes.

"You didn't have to come, Howard. No one even invited you."

"Well what was I gonna do, huh, sit in the dorm by myself all weekend? I'm not some loser."

Randy snorted.

"That's what you think." He says, unable to help himself.

Howard shoots him a glare. It isn't as effective as it normally is, since he has his seat leaned all the way back, a fluffy pillow tucked under his head, and a blanket covering up feet he's resting on the dashboard. (Yeah, Howard knows how to roadtrip.)

He doesn't have a retort, but he's comfy and rested, which is more than Randy can say after the long drive.

"I think I missed it." Randy realizes after a silent moment. "I really missed Amity Park."

"_ Cunningham _." Howard says in a tone of pure scandal and disgust.

"Yeah."

Randy knows that's pretty shameful.

"They don't even have a McClucker's here! Their dominant food chain is _Nasty Burger _. Nasty Burger, Cunningham!"

"I know it's wonk. I just – the ghost aesthetic really grows on you!"

"It does not. It opposite-grows on you. It destroys not one but two separate lunches with ghost attacks and opposite-grows on you until you wonder why anyone in their right mind _chooses _to live here."

Randy blinks and then smiles, remembering the incident.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Danny didn't even buy you a new burger afterwards, did he?"

"Nope."

"He's probably still dead broke." Randy thinks aloud. Though hopefully Danny Phantom doesn't ruin as many people's days anymore. Or property. It's been a few years since he got his powers. He's probably pretty honkin' bruce as a superhero now.

Unlike Randy.

Randy's brain does that flash that happens every time you remember you're going to see an old acquaintance who's doing interesting and important stuff with his life and you realize you are the exact same person you were when you last met.

It fills him with an odd mixture of nervousness and shame and excitement.

"You need to turn right up here, Cunningham." Howard reminds him, voice gentle like he saw the flicker of trepidation dart across Randy's face. Well. It's gentle by Howard standards.

"Right. Yep." Randy says, tightening his hands on the steering wheel.

It's not difficult to find Danny's place. Even if he hadn't been here many times, the huge light up _Fenton Works _sign and giant radar dish visible from most of the city would've given it away.

"Please don't call Danny's parents by their first names this time." Randy remembers to tell Howard as he turns onto their street.

"Why not?"

"It's honkin' _weird _, Howard. I don't care what the law says, you're not an adult. You can't call adults by their first name."

"Oh yeah? Well, Mort thinks it's weird that you _don't _call him by his first name."

Randy snorts at that.

"No, he doesn't." He says.

"He told me so, Cunningham."

"He did not. Besides, you calling your _own dad _by his first name is weird enough for the both of us."

Randy manages to parallel park (with debatable success; the car is more diagonal than parallel, really) while they have this well-traveled argument. Most arguments with Howard are like this. They have been friends for so long that either one of them could quote these discussions word for word.

It's both sort of funny and sad to think about.

"At least put your shoes back on." Randy says finally, after Howard refuses to agree to call them _Mr. and Mrs. Fenton _like a friggin' normal human being.

"That I will do." Howard concedes.

Randy called Danny yesterday and he knows that Danny usually comes home on the weekends from college (there's enough ghost fighters to protect the town most of the time in his absence and he is one ghost portal/fifteen minute drive away from Amity should they need him), and he _promised _he'd be here today, but suddenly Randy is worried Danny won't be here.

Their week of revenge pranks are up. Randy _knows _this. He also knows that there are residual hurt feelings and Danny, at his worst, can be petty.

But he wouldn't leave Randy hanging. He wouldn't.

Sure, Randy's phone died half an hour ago and Howard called dibs on the charger, so he can't text Danny to confirm, or look back on previous texts to remind himself that this is the right weekend, but -

But he's anxious anyway.

He and Howard stand on the Fenton's doorstep, Howard nonchalantly and repeatedly ringing their doorbell as all sorts of useless thoughts occur to Randy.

They disappear the moment the door opens.

It isn't Danny, but Mrs. Fenton. She's in her usual jumpsuit, a ghost ray in hand by her side. If it were Mr. Fenton, he would've called them ghosts and threatened them with it, but Mrs. Fenton is a little more subtle than that. A _little. _

There's still some crazy in her eyes, though, when she tugs her goggles up off her face and beams at them.

"Oh, hello Randy! And Howard! How lovely to see you again, dears! Come in, come in."

The Fenton household is dangerous and insane and usually loud, but it has a good feel to it. It's fun. It's filled with mad love.

And Randy, despite knowing better, relaxes the moment he steps foot inside.

"You must be here to see Danny! He came home yesterday and mentioned you might stop by, but we weren't sure when so I've been working on adjustments for the new Ghost Shield instead of making snacks, I'm sorry."

Howard, lover of all of Mrs. Fenton's snacks, pouts.

"Aw, you don't have to go to any trouble for us." Randy says, trying to be polite.

"Though you can if you want to, Maddie." Howard adds.

Randy shoots him the _we just talked about that _look.

Howard shrugs. It's the _I know and I don't care _shrug. He uses it a lot.

Mrs. Fenton laughs, like hearing someone the age of her youngest child call her by her first name is delightfully charming, and places her gun in a holster at her side.

"Well, I might be able to whip up some cookies before dinner." She says, and it'd sound like regular parent talk if there wasn't goo on her face and upsetting dark stains on her jumpsuit.

How is it that Jake's family are literal _dragons _and the human Fenton family are much, much stranger? Randy thinks to himself.

"You can put your things in the guest room, if you'd like." Maddie tells them as they walk through the lounge. "Oh! I think Danny and his friends went out a little while ago but they'll be back soon."

"Where they at?" Randy asks.

"The Nasty Burger, I think. I told him not to spoil his dinner, but honestly it doesn't seem to! I swear he could eat four dinners and still be hungry afterwards. Teenagers!"

"Yup." Howard agrees.

Randy doesn't feel like watching his best friend and his friend's mom talk like they are coworkers, so he tosses his bag of stuff upstairs in the guest room and jogs back down to yell,

"I'm going to meet Danny at Nasty Burger!"

"See you later, Randy!" Maddie calls back.

"Don't get lost, Cunningham!" Howard adds. He doesn't offer to go with Randy.

It's peculiar, how Howard gets along with Jake and Danny and Jake and Danny's friends, yet never really seems to want to hang out with them. Howard only comes along because Randy's going. And Howard hates to be alone.

Randy has never understood it, even from before the whole mindwipe thing happened. Howard refuses to explain it.

Setting out alone, he makes his way towards the fast food establishment a couple blocks over. He doesn't bother driving; it's not far; and besides, the street Fenton Works is on is busy enough that he'd _definitely _lose his parking spot by the time he drove back.

It doesn't take long anyway. Only about five minutes.

Then he pulls open Nasty Burger's doors and walks into a familiar scene.

They have their own booth. He doesn't think it actually has their names on it, but it's the only one they seem to sit at and nobody else ever seems to take it.

Randy still can't get over how _tall _Danny looks. It's especially stupid since he saw the halfa a few days ago, yet he really looks like he's grown a lot, even though at the moment he's sitting down. Sam is rocking even shorter hair than before, almost shorter than Danny's messy mop.

Tucker alone looks unchanged. Same hat, same PDA on hand, same wire-rim glasses.

It's incredible, the feeling that bubbles up when they catch sight of Randy. It's a chain reaction – first Danny, who stops speaking, then Sam notices, and then Tucker swings around in the booth to see.

"Randy!" Danny yells, gaining a glare from the employee at the counter.

Randy feels a grin stretch across his face as he bounds over.

"Danny! My man!"

Danny has to climb over Sam to hug him and does it anyway, ignoring her eye roll and noises of protest.

It's a real nice hug. It's the second one in a week – he must've really missed Randy, while his memory was gone.

"Why didn't you text me that you were here, dude?" Danny asks as he pulls back.

"Come on, Fenton. Everyone knows surprises are the _cheese _." Randy says. Then shrugs. "Also, my phone died on the trip over. And Howard stole my charger."

Tucker grins and nods at him as Randy slides into the booth on his side. Sam, who Randy hasn't always gotten along with (he used to mistake her for Theresa Fowler all the time and it got reaal awkward between them), offers him a nod and an eyebrow raise as Danny settles back down beside her.

That's like, her equivalent of a hug. Randy decides he will cherish it forever.

"So what's happening here?" He says, and he gestures to how Danny has his arm around Sam's shoulders and he isn't blushing crimson red. And Sam isn't stuttering or pushing Danny away – she's calm and comfortable and pressing her head against Danny's. It's cute. Sickeningly sweet, like the taste of cotton candy.

"What is this nonsense? Did you two finally get together or what?"

"Ha!" Tucker crows. "Even _Randy _saw it coming before you did, Danny!"

Danny huffs and puts up his free hand in surrender.

"Okay, yeah, I get it. I'm clueless – you happy now, Tuck?"

"Mmm hmm."

Tucker takes a victory sip from his drink.

This is neither a yes or a no, so Randy checks for confirmation from Sam.

"Yes, we're dating." She says at his look. "Since the end of high school."

Oh, geez. Mood killer.

"Wow, can't believe I missed _that _." Randy says.

An uncomfortable tension falls around the group at the mention of the 'end of high school'.

Danny finds his voice first.

"So...any reason you didn't tell us that you were gonna lose your memories Senior year? You weren't **–** I mean, you didn't think I'd be mad if you said anything _then _, did you?"

Randy scratches at his cheek.

"It's like this," He says, regretting not telling them and glad about it at the same time. "The first time, I was gonna mention it. Probably. I mean, _definitely _. But there were these super wonk robots near the end of senior year that really wrecked my phone – and I mean _really _destroyed it, like the SIM card was dust inside there – "

Danny raises an eyebrow at him.

"Uh huh."

"– and I don't have your number memorized, this isn't the _dark ages _but I also didn't have time to swing by and talk to you in person, you know?"

"That's senior year for you." Sam says. It's a completely neutral tone, yet it's also supporting Randy right now, so he'll take it.

"Exactly!" He says. "So I considered my options and decided it was just easier not to mention it. I uh...that – that doesn't make it much better, does it?"

All three of them shake their heads at him, at least one of them amused by this. Unfortunately, that one is not Danny.

And Danny is the one he hurt most.

Randy bites his lip and glances away.

"I thought this would be a problem for mindwiped!me to handle. And yeah, I could've mentioned that this was a clause in the Ninja contract earlier – "

"There's a ninja contract?" Tucker asks.

"But I put it off because… honestly? It was hard enough to go through with it without anyone trying to talk me out of it. If I _had _told you and Jake, you guys probably would've convinced me to stay the Ninja."

"And that would've been bad?" Danny guesses. He doesn't seem furious. He doesn't look quite over it, either.

"It would've been bad." Randy agrees. "Like, _really _honkin' bad. There are good reasons there's a new Ninja chosen every four years. But um. I am sorry. That I never said anything back then."

"Does this mean you're regular old Randy Cunningham now? No thirty different styles of flippin' martial arts, no Ninja gadgets, no swords?"

"No more ninja o'clock." Randy says, smiling slightly.

"But you got your memories back anyway. Enough to prank us." Sam points out. "You're not all mindwiped anymore, or whatever, so clearly you broke your ninja contract somehow."

"Yeah. I uh – I wasn't supposed to do that? I almost stole the Nomicon when I didn't have my memories, which ha, wasn't _great. _Inside the Nomicon, all my memories came back and I asked if I could keep them this time–"

"And your grumpy book said yes?" Danny says, disbelieving. He too has had some run ins with the Nomicon and has joined Howard's _I don't care for that dumb book at all _club.

"It did. I have to stay away from the kid who's the Ninja now, but I get to remember."

Randy lets all of this absorb for them. He snags a couple of fries from Danny in the meantime, munching happily. It feels good, to get everything out in the open. Randy has never done well with secrets.

They didn't get to really finish this conversation the last time they met, what with Danny having to head back home to class and Jake getting a call about some Amercan Dragon business.

That's partly why Randy reached out to them this weekend **– **so they could catch up without someone rushing off to fight bad guys or get a decent attendance grade. They had different schedules, but Randy doesn't mind meeting up with them individually.

That's the other part of why he's here; he really has missed them. Missed what's new in their lives. Missed what they are doing. Missed _them _.

Even Sam and Tucker, who he isn't as close with, make his chest feel warm just by sitting in the same booth at Nasty Burger with him.

Randy has friends _plural _again. He loves this.

"I'm glad you got to remember, dude." Tucker tells him after a minute. "We missed having someone around who kick Danny's butt at Grave Puncher."

Randy, oft–disputed king of video games among the Secret Trio and their friends (but undeniably the best), grins.

"That has never happened!" Danny denies.

Tucker shakes his head and taps on the side of his phone.

"I think we all know I have video evidence that disproves that."

He does. He has backups, too, so Danny can't delete it.

They all get a good chuckle out of that one.

"So what's new with you guys? Besides the inevitable dating thing." Randy says, waving a hand dismissively at Danny and Sam.

"Dude, you missed a _lot _. Where do we start?"

"You heard about the asteroid thing that almost destroyed the earth, right?" Danny checks.

Randy has to think about it.

"I mean...maybe? I _think _I heard about it, but there was this thing with the Sorcerer and a big battle and I was kinda preoccupied."

"Seriously?" Danny says. "I mean, we took care of it, but you weren't even slightly concerned?"

Randy shrugs.

"Clearly you had it, bro. Why should I get wonked up over it?"

"Anyway," Sam continues with a roll of her eyes. "We had to work together with most of the Ghost Zone to prevent the earth from getting destroyed and – "

Danny jerks his head up and breathes out fog. Randy always thinks it's gotten super cold all of a sudden, even though he knows it's Danny's ghost sense and it hardly ever gets that cold in Amity.

It's always what his brain jumps to first. Then, he realizes what it means.

"Sorry, hold on," Danny says apologetically as he climbs over Sam again. "I need to go take care of this."

Because this is what Danny does. This is always what Danny does. He protects Amity Park, sends ghosts back to the Ghost Zone, saves the day.

Regular superhero stuff.

It's never bothered Randy before. Usually, when he's in Amity and Danny's ghost sense goes off, he doesn't even bother asking if Danny needs help. He doesn't mind sitting back, relaxing, and chatting with Sam and Tucker.

He always brought his Ninja mask. He always had the option.

Yet it never mattered, never even touched him until now.

Randy watches Danny duck into the Nasty Burger bathroom to go ghost and swallows back the tightness in his throat.

They fought together as a team rarely, which means it shouldn't even matter; but they are no longer the so called Secret Trio. Not all of them are superheroes anymore.

And not all of them were needed on the team, apparently. Not all of them were crucial.

If that last skirmish in Norrisville was any indication, Jake and Danny have already moved on. They fight beautifully as a pair.

Without delay, without indecision. Without _him _.

"Randy?"

"Hmm?" Randy blinks and tries to focus back on the conversation at hand. "Sorry, what? You were telling me something about an asteroid?"

Sam and Tucker exchange a look Randy can't read. With Howard (and for the most part Jake and Danny), Randy knows nearly every expression and every possible meaning attached to it. It's comforting that way, knowing a person whole-heartedly.

If he'd had to guess on this one (and he does), he thinks they seem concerned.

"Actually," Sam starts. "There's this new game Danny got for the PS4. Some RPG multiplayer thing. We were thinking of going back to Danny's place and trying it out."

"If you wanted to." Tucker adds.

Randy bites his lip.

"What..what about Danny?"

The two do the gaze thing again, eyeing each other out of the corner of their vision and somehow conveying paragraphs of meaning without speech.

"He can catch up. I'll text him." Sam says, waving the subject off. The light catches on her black painted nails, on the soft look in her eyes. "Who knows how long he'll be?"

"Yeah, what do you say?"

Something warm glows in his chest for a moment.

Randy doesn't have to try to grin at them.

"Okay, then. Sounds bruce." He agrees. "Hey, when Danny gets back, I can keep up my streak of beating him at every game he owns."

Sam smiles and Tucker laughs.

Life isn't perfect, except Randy remembers, and he's hanging out with good friends, and it is.

They – and Howard, who hops in of course – play for an hour until Danny gets back. And not once during that time is Randy bothered by the things he can't have again.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read/fav'ed/reviewed! Hope you keep reading :)


	4. Fourth Time

Thank you to DinoPirate, who is a wonderful human being! Hope you keep reading and reviewing! ^^

* * *

iv.

"I gave up my powers once." Danny says. He doesn't look at Randy as he says this.

They sit on Fenton Work's roof, in the space not dominated by radar dishes, signs, and a disguised blimp. It's late, but green still stains the sky – Randy swears it's the ghost activity because the sky is _always _green here. Even at night. With the wind in their hair and legs dangling off the roof, it's peaceful.

Calm.

It's _nice _and they were supposed to talk. Catch up on things. Still, Randy didn't know that this is what they were gonna talk about.

He fights the urge to get up and walk away. He inhales, holds, and sighs it out.

_Alright then. We're doing _this_. _

Randy has heard enough from Danny about wanting a 'normal life' to understand the reason, but he asks the question anyway.

"Why?"

Because it's one thing to say you want something; it's another thing to act on it, years later.

Danny smiles, sad and sheepish.

"I thought it'd be better. I thought sitting on the sidelines looked good. I thought I could just... walk away."

Randy thinks that Jake has a similar story.

Randy thinks that there were many times he'd wished the same thing for himself.

Everyone needs a break. Everyone needs to have fun once in a while. Everyone, at some point, wishes to be normal, to be _unburdened. _

Even so, the thought of Danny gladly throwing away something Randy aches to get back makes Randy want to punch him.

Repeatedly.

"But you got your powers back." Randy guesses. "You realized you couldn't walk away, it's not who you are, and you became Danny Phantom again, right?"

Danny jerks his head up.

Randy tries for a smile to soften the bitterness of his tone.

"Sorry, did I spoil the ending?"

He's not sure it works.

There's something like hurt on Danny's face (Randy's never like this, he _knows _he's never like this), but he shakes it off.

"You're skipping ahead. The important part is what happens in the middle. I – I really thought I would never get my powers back. And I still couldn't walk away. I still had to help."

Danny's eyes, blue and green both, are always slightly too vivid, too neon to feel human. They scan Randy for something he's afraid to name.

"You don't have to have powers to help people, Randy." Danny says.

Another conversation flashes in his mind,

_I want to help people. _

_So why don't you? _

Randy sighs.

Maybe he should feel grateful that Danny, the one who only really met memory-less Randy the once, is the one talking to him about this.

Maybe he should feel offended that it's not Jake, finishing the conversation they started.

All he really feels is pitied. When Randy couldn't remember Jake, his words seemed phenomenal, supportive. Now, they feel patronizing. _Insulting. _He and Danny are still heroes, still powerful – and it's not their fault, but they _are_. Them saying he could still be a hero is like a bird telling a fish, if just jump high enough, you can fly too.

It's enough to make him truly _mad_.

"So what's the point here, Danny? Why are you telling me about this?"

Randy knows he has no right to be angry. He chose to give it up, and he didn't even tell them. He gave up being a hero.

But that's the thing Jake and Danny (and even, upon occasion, Randy himself) don't seem to fully understand.

He's Randy Cunningham and he _was _the Ninja. Past tense.

It's over and done now. There's no going back.

He can't be a hero anymore. That's just not how life works.

And to pretend like he can, like it _does_, causes something painful and lava-hot to swell in his chest, only serving to burn him in the end.

"I don't know, man, it just seemed like maybe you needed to hear that." Danny says. "The way you looked when you ran into the new Ninja the other day...I dunno. It seems like you're still **– **lost, sometimes."

Randy glances away.

He _is _lost. Not all the time. Not even most of the time. He's been fine pre-Ninja and he'll be fine now that he's post-Ninja.

It's the moments that he remembers what he could do, what he had, how he made a difference –

– the moments where he's left longing, left hanging, because his heart forgets –

It's those moments, those harsh few seconds where he's reminded, _again_, what he's not. That's when he comes unmoored.

That's when he feels totally alone, totally lost.

And this, this might be one of them. But it'll pass.

(It will it will_ it won't _it _will, _it _has _to)

Randy manages to smile at Danny with a little effort.

"I'm fine, I promise. I'm –" He takes in a deep breath, wills the anger away. "I'm not the Ninja anymore, Danny. Not a hero. But I'm _okay_. You know, I had a good run. We were a good trio, we helped people, we fought the bad guys. I-I was a good Ninja. And being able to remember that – that's enough for me."

That's the _hope_; Danny's expression says he doubts it's the truth.

"Right. Sure." Danny says.

"Good. So stop – stop saying I can 'be a hero', stop feeling _sorry _for me, stop – whatever this is." Randy gestures between them, as though that will encapsulate this entire conversation.

"That wasn't –"

Randy hunches in on himself and crosses his arms.

"That's what it felt like." He says, knows he sounds like a sulking child. "It's over, man. Me being the Ninja is _over _and I can deal with that. Can't you?"

There's a puff of air; a sigh, not a ghost sense.

Then arms, slow and steady, snake around Randy as Danny gives him a gentle hug.

"I'm sorry." Danny says. "I didn't mean it that way, man. I don't feel sorry for you."

It shouldn't make all of the bitterness and anger churning inside him slip away. It doesn't fix anything, not really.

But it is...nice.

Hesitantly, Randy's arms come up and he hugs Danny back, his mind idly musing, as always, that Danny is warm like this. His ghost form is all cold limbs. Danny Fenton is squishy, though, and warm.

"I just wanted you to know that we're here for you, Randy. All of us. And just because you're done with the Ninja...doesn't mean we're done with _you_."

It would be dumb, Randy thinks, to get teared up over this.

"I knew that already," He says, not sniffling at all. "You shoob."

Danny snorts.

"Good. That's good."

Perhaps there's something still insecure inside him, some part of him that _didn't _know, because a knot in his chest eases at Danny's words.

An anxiety he hadn't known he was carrying lessens.

Randy thinks he knew they weren't gonna stop being friends with him just because he isn't the Ninja anymore.

He thinks he understood that Danny and Jake weren't like that.

But maybe he didn't. Maybe it's like how he keeps trying to understand not being the Ninja anymore.

There are many moments where he's okay; there are more moments where his heart _longs_; and there are fewer, darker moments where he feels all he's lost and can only wonder where that leaves him.

He's not a hero anymore. He's not the Ninja.

But he'll be okay eventually anyway.

Randy hugs Danny tighter and fights real tears.

"...Thanks, Danny." He says softly.


	5. Fifth Time

v.

"I think Danny's ignoring me." Randy says one Wednesday.

Howard doesn't look up.

"Uh-huh." He says. "Sure."

They both sit in the college library, textbooks, notebooks, and snacks on the table in front of them. Both are giving the appearance of studying, yet are really staring at their phones that rest on top of their open textbooks.

Randy doesn't think they're doing it to _fool _anyone, per say. They meant to study today. They _need _to study. Their intentions just rarely work out that way.

And now another problem has taken over Randy's brain.

"Howard, seriously. He said he wasn't mad at me last weekend, but I sent him like, fifteen texts since then and he hasn't responded to any of them."

Howard rolls his eyes and holds out a hand for the phone.

"Let me see." Howard pauses, scrolling through the texts for a moment, and raises an eyebrow. "...ooh. Yeah, that's bad. You passed into clingy teenager territory like twelve texts ago."

Randy thinks that's probably accurate. Unfortunate, but accurate. It's never sat right with him, to be the source of other people's anger, especially someone who is a close friend.

And last they spoke, Randy was unusually bitter with him. He had no right to be, but –

"Maybe he's busy." He muses aloud. "Maybe he's fighting ghosts or something and just hasn't checked his phone."

Howard slides Randy's phone back across the table. He shrugs.

"Sure. That's probably it."

Howard is clearly lying to spare his feelings, which is nice since he doesn't do that often.

Still, the possibility is not implausible. Danny has faced several ghost invasions. Several nemeses (nemesi?). Amity Park is rarely calm or peaceful and as its protector, Danny has inevitably ghosted (pun intended) Randy and Jake many times in the past.

It's _possible_, okay?

It's possible that Danny meant it when he said he and Randy were cool. It's possible this isn't some kind of payback for the memory thing or the prank war thing or for snapping at him when Danny was just trying to empathize (oh Randy might have shoobed that one up good).

Randy ignores a series of loud booms coming from down the street – people in Norrisville, particularly those who live near the high school like Randy and Howard, are used to those – and tries to think.

The problem is that he has no real way of knowing what's going on with Danny. If Danny's ignoring texts, he'd probably ignore a phone call too.

"Um...Cunningham, did you hear that?"

Randy wonders if it'd be overkill to ask Jake to check up on Danny. Maybe he should give it another day. Danny can handle trouble, if that's what's going on. Which it totally _is. _

"That crash sounded close." Howard is saying in the background. "You think we should maybe go back to the dorms?"

Then again, what if Danny is in _serious _trouble? He might need help. He might really need Jake to come fight with him.

Randy worries himself into sending another text,

_Danny r u in trouble?! _

"Cunningham? Oh juice – "

In retrospect, Randy is given a lot of warning before the ceiling violently caves in, but at the time it catches him completely off guard.

"Oh shoot!" He shouts. He grabs his phone and his Howard and rushes towards the door.

There's a monster in the center of the library, having destroyed a good 60% of their plaster ceiling to get here, and it roars menacingly at the few other students around. Apparently it hadn't gotten the memo that monsters are supposed to show up in the _high school_, not the college.

"Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go…" Randy chants to himself.

They almost make it out of the building. Almost. Randy isn't sure if it's _exactly _his fault, but he does pause at possibly the most inconvenient time, reaching into his jacket to grab a mask that isn't there.

Because he doesn't have it anymore.

Because he's not the Ninja anymore.

"Cunningham!" Howard yells and jerks on the back of Randy's jacket. They barely dodge a second monster kicking in the door.

"No one leaves!" The monster growls. It looks, oddly, almost identical to the other one; four limbs, bright red with some sort of white shirt stretched across their gargantuan bodies.

"Yeah, uh, we have a class to get to, don't want to be late," Howard tries. "So if you could just let us pass – "

The stanked person roars in Randy and Howard's faces. It plants itself firmly in front of the crushed double doors leading outside.

"No. One. _Leaves_." They hiss.

Randy and Howard stumble backwards, more from the bad breath than the threatening presence (they've faced worse, threat wise).

Randy glances around for other exit routes and finds a disheartening picture – there are about ten stanked guys in total, forming a perimeter around any window or door out of the library. They all have the red skin, the white shirt, and green wisps of smoke curling off them. They growl at the dozen odd students trapped in here now, but otherwise don't make any moves yet.

"Looks like the Sorcerer stanked half a class." Randy whispers aloud. They've moved to crouch behind a row of books, not quite out of sight and not quite behind cover, though close enough on both counts to comfort them.

"Half a football team." Howard corrects, voice a whisper too.

Randy blinks down at him.

"The high school has a football team?"

"Of course not, Cunningham, don't be stupid." Howard says, rolling his eyes at him. "They have a chess team. _We _have a football team."

Randy scoffs.

"If we have a Norrisville community college football team, then why haven't I ever seen a football field?"

Howard looks at him. It's the _Cunningham-you-truly-are-an-idiot _look and Randy is disappointed, because he'd been on a roll lately and hadn't gotten that look in over a week.

Howard lifts an arm and points behind them, to a window that has been smashed and is almost covered up by a hulking brute of a monster, but isn't quite.

"It's right there." He says.

"That's the soccer field." Randy says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Howard shrugs.

"It's both. Due to budget issues, I hear."

"How would that even work – no, nope, doesn't matter right now. We need to figure out what ten students would hold most dear."

"Ten _football _players, and that's the Ninja's job, Cunningham."

Randy rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, I am the – " It hits him again. It shouldn't hurt, especially since he had this realization _less than five minutes ago_.

But he keeps forgetting. And it does.

It's a punch to the gut every time.

"Oh." Randy says, swallowing hard. "Right."

"Yep. We're just two good-looking civilians in this situation." Howard says. He either misses or chooses to ignore Randy's verbal stumble.

Deciding to roll with it, Randy leans down to say, quietly, to Howard,

"And what exactly do civilians do in situations like these?"

Howard offers a shrug.

"You could panic. Or just sort of chill, which is what I do. It's worth noting that if you do go the apathy route, you really have to commit."

It sounds really good to not care about anything right now.

"Okay…Apathy, check." Randy adopts a blank, uncaring look and slumps a little, arms crossed over his chest. "Now what?"

"You wait."

"For how long?"

"Long as it takes, my dude." Howard says bluntly. "Or at least as long as your phone battery lasts."

"Huh."

Howard nudges him in the ribs and gives him a knowing nod.

"Not so fun being on the other side of things, is it?"

"Hey, I still think this is better. Come on, we don't have to fight anything! No sneaking away, no having to come up with strategies or fighting moves! We get to sit around and wait. Just...sit and wait and relax, not doing anything at all for minutes or hours and – and – oh _man _this is boring."

Howard grunts noncommittally at him.

Randy's thoughts cycle through _bored, bored, when is the Ninja gonna get here, I hate not being the Ninja anymore, bored, where is the stanked object, bored, is Danny in trouble, worried, bored, bored. _

He lands back on Danny and that whole mess and it eats at him. It's better than obsessing over a job he's not supposed to do and a responsibility that is no longer his to bear, but not by much.

Really, it's just a different source of helplessness to fixate over.

He shifts anxiously.

"So uh...do you really think Danny is just ignoring me?" He asks.

He doesn't expect Howard to growl in anger, or for him to stand up, grab Randy by the shoulders and shake him.

"Cunningham, _please_, I'm begging you – just _call _him. I'm tired of hearing about this!"

Randy jerks back out of his grip. First of all, _rude_. Second of all –

"You can't call someone who's ignoring you, Howard!" He points out, straightening his jacket.

Some understanding friend Howard is.

"Fine, then call that other guy. Call Jake and see what he thinks. Just _please _stop asking me about this. It's _so stupid_."

Randy sticks his tongue out at his best friend, already pulling up Jake in his contacts list.

"Your face is stupid." He retorts. He puts the phone to his ear and turns his back to Howard, ignoring the mutters of, "My face isn't stupid, _your _face is.."

Jake will get it. He'll offer a more compassionate listening ear. He'll figure out this Danny code.

"Sup, Jake." Randy says.

"Randy? Yo, man, what's up?"

"Nothing, nothing, just trapped in the school library with these monsters, waiting for the Ninja to show up." Randy says nonchalantly. "So hey, I was just wondering, have you heard from Danny lately?"

There's a silence on the other end.

"Go back to the part where you're trapped." Jake says, finally.

"Eh. Don't worry about that. Worry about Danny. I keep texting him and I don't even get a _read _message. I can't tell if he's ignoring me for uh, some reason, or if he's like, in serious trouble."

"Aw, man." Jake mutters. "Slow down, dude. About this other situation, with the monsters – do you need help?"

"I'm sure the Ninja's got it."

"But you said you're waiting for him to show up." Jake points out.

"I'm sure he's got it when he gets here."

Jake heaves a world-weary sigh.

"...Put Howard on."

Randy rolls his eyes (what is Howard, his _mother _?), but obediently hands the phone to Howard, who's busy playing Word Cookies on his own phone.

"It's for you."

Howard tucks the phone between his ear and his shoulder and does not pause his game.

"Yello?" Howard says. He pauses, nodding to himself a moment. "Nope. Yep. We're fine. Other than Randy crumbling emotionally."

Randy yanks the phone back.

"Stop it."

"Just trying to help."

"Did not help. Didn't help at all."

"You sure you're okay?" Jake asks on the other end. "You're not thinking of doing anything stupid or dangerous, right, like taking on these monsters without the suit?"

That bitter part of Randy wants to say,

_I thought you said I could still be a hero_ _like this. Guess you don't really believe that, do you? _

Randy bites back those words. He's already done this, already gone the angry honest route and all it got him was the feeling of guilt and a friend who ignores his texts.

Besides, Randy is trying to move on. The fact that they can't always see that is what made him angry in the first place.

Randy sighs, deflating as his back slides down the bookcase.

He says,

"No, Jake. I am chilling like a civilian here. Not thinking of doing anything stupid or dangerous while I calmly await the Ninja's arrival. I promise."

"...Alright, Randy." Even though Randy told the truth, Jake sounds dubious. "Just stay safe, okay? I'll see if I can call Danny. If not, I'll…try to get Spud to track his phone."

Randy grins.

There might be some ethical concerns with tracking people's phones without their consent, but Danny could be in trouble. It will give Randy peace of mind, at least.

"Thanks, man." Randy says. "You're the best."

"You know it. Call me back if things get bad."

Jake hangs up before Randy can reassure him that things _won't _get bad. Which, for the record, he isn't too sure about.

Some of the monsters appear to be getting restless.

"What do you think they want?" Randy murmurs to Howard, eyeing the growling, pacing beasts through the openings in the bookcase.

"Hmm?" Howard has switched to Candy Crush on his phone. He doesn't glance up.

"The monsters. How do you think the Sorcerer stanked half a football team, anyway?"

Howard grunts.

"Based on stereotypes and my knowledge of our football team, I'd say he got 'em through bad grades."

"Huh."

"I bet they're mad at a professor or maybe some nerd who got a better grade than them or something."

Randy blinks. Howard sounds so smart in the library; the room is so packed with knowledge it must be starting to seep into their brains.

"But if they're looking for someone in particular," Randy wonders aloud, "Why did they lock down the library and then wait? Shouldn't they be _looking _?"

"Cunningham," Howard sighs. "I don't know their life story. You want to know their motive? Give it a second, I'm sure monsters like them will just shout it out."

Stanked people in this town do have a habit of doing that. But seconds, then minutes pass, and nothing seems to happen. No Ninja. No shouting of motives. Nothing.

Randy feels itchy, feels impatient.

No, he realizes, he feels _trapped. _It's insane – he's been in actual traps before, hung from his ankle over quicksand, boxed in by metal bars, cornered by deadly lasers.

Here he's not even tied up. He has an internet connection, the use of his legs, and the ability to call for backup if need be. Here, he's chilling in the library – where he _wanted _to be all day – and he even has a decent excuse not to be studying.

Randy shouldn't feel anxious. He shouldn't feel like it's difficult to breathe, like he needs to be elsewhere, like he's claustrophobic.

He's a civilian now. This is how civilians roll.

Randy tells himself those two sentences over and over, hoping to quell a rising need for action, hoping he can finally convince himself of what he is.

And what he's not.

"I can't." He says finally. "I can't do this – I can't – Howard, I can't just sit here –"

Howard jerks his head up. He must see something in Randy's expression, because his eyes widen.

"No no, come on, Cunningham, you can do this. You can just sit by, it's _easy _and you're doing it, I promise –"

Randy shakes his head and keeps going, suddenly unable to stop.

"Nope, I can't. I'm gonna go figure out what they hold most dear, I can't just– just _wait _while Danny's mad at me and we can't study and the Ninja isn't coming –"

"You're doing so well, dude, don't go ruining things now –" Howard tries to reassure him.

But there's too many things Randy _can't _do right now. Like a stack of cards, they all begin to crumple, his admittedly limited willpower dissolving as he starts to creep forwards towards the monsters.

"Cunningham, _stop_." Howard's hand yanks on the back of his jacket. "You aren't the Ninja anymore! You have to let him handle this."

"I know!" Randy snaps. If _one more person _reminds him of that like he doesn't already _freaking know _– "I know, but he's not _here_, Howard. He's not coming."

Howard stares at him. There's this angry, pensive expression on his face, unusual only in that it's laced with something desperate.

Randy finds it in him to wait that one moment. He wants to hear Howard say, '_ You're right, Cunningham _', or maybe ' _Go get 'em _'.

He doesn't expect Howard to reach out and slap him in the face.

"OW!" Randy gapes. "What the _juice_, Howard?"

"You're acting crazy!"

"Y-you slapped me!"

"Yeah, because you're acting _crazy _!"

Randy holds a hand to his throbbing cheek, wondering why his leftover Ninja senses didn't dodge that, wondering why this hurts worse than that time he got stabbed once.

"That hurt, dude!"

Howard rolls his eyes at Randy.

"Come on, Cunningham, now you're just being a baby." He says. "You got stabbed once and didn't even complain this much."

_That's why I just thought_, Randy thinks.

"It still wasn't cool!"

There's a loud, upset growl, and several monsters yell,

"What's going on over there?"

"Nothing!" He and Howard reply in unison. They realize how loud they've gotten and, also in sync, share a look of regret.

"Sounds like something!" Another monster hisses. Footsteps crash towards their corner of the library – Randy thinks if there was a glass of water around, it would shake and tremble at the weight of the oncoming threat.

"Look what you did now, Cunningham!"

"What _I _did?" Even as he's yelling, Randy's pulling out his phone and frantically dialing Jake. "You're the one who slapped me!"

"You were about to do something stupid! And you _just _told Jake you wouldn't!"

Randy glares at Howard, phone pressed to his ear.

"It was true at the time."

"Oh, yeah, cause _that _excuse always works."

A large hand shoves the bookcase in front of them to the side. Its strength is so great the bookcase hits the wall and dents it with merely a swipe from the monster, like it's knocking over a stack of styrofoam cups.

"What are you _nerds _doing?!" The red stanked student booms down at them. "You are hostages! Hostages are supposed to be _quiet _!"

Randy wishes he could rewind time to two minutes ago.

He very much regrets attracting the monster's' attention.

"Um..." He says, phone still ringing in his ear as he stares up at the easily ten feet tall creature.

"Sorry?" Howard offers.

He and Howard have moved to squish side-by-side, like standing nearly on top of each other is going to save them – or maybe just to make it more convenient to be able to shove the other person in front as a human shield if the need arises. With them, it's difficult to tell.

"The Ninja isn't even coming!" Another monster screeches from across the room. "Why bother keeping hostages?"

Oh boy. That's probably the worst direction this could have gone.

Luckily, Jake chooses that moment to pick up.

"Hey, Randy, we haven't figured what's up with Danny yet, okay – "

"We are no longer fine." Randy says into the phone, voice cracking. "Things have broke bad, J. I repeat, things have broke bad – "

"Let's smash 'em, then!" A third monster is saying. Randy's pretty sure Jake can hear that through the phone, because he inhales sharply, and then there's the sound of rustling and rapid footsteps.

In the library, more people than Randy and Howard have started to panic. Several students are crying; two people have fainted; a teacher that has gotten trapped in here with them starts ripping up what looks like homework, somehow terrified, resigned, and relieved all at the same time.

They really believe the Ninja isn't going to show up in time.

Randy wishes he didn't believe that too.

"I say we start the smashing with the noisy ones!" The stanked football student says. Their friends roar in agreement, which is really, _really _bad for Howard and Randy.

"Um. H-how soon can you get here?" Randy asks Jake. His voice is small, quiet – but it's too little too late.

"Give me ten minutes." Jake says.

In the grand scheme of things, ten minutes isn't that long. It's the length of an Adventure Time episode; it's about a 9th of a math class; it's how long it takes to travel to the mall on foot from Randy's dorm.

Ten minutes is tiny.

Ten minutes is _nothing_.

Randy watches as one monster grabs Howard and another yanks a student to her feet, and he's overcome by that same feeling of helplessness again.

Because ten minutes is far too long.

They aren't even going to last _five_.

Time slows to an agonizing second-by-second play.

He has to do something, Randy thinks desperately, he has to try –

Howard yelps as he's lifted.

– what can Randy even do, he has no mask, no Suit, no real way to fight –

The monster lifts its arm back to start wailing.

– this is _Howard, _Randy can't do nothing, but he doesn't think he could save him either –

– Randy isn't a hero anymore, he isn't the Ninja, how can he hope to save his best friend –

– but how could he think he still wasn't going to try –

Randy rushes forwards.

"Put him down!" He screams. He's more terrified than he's ever been in his life, including fighting the Sorcerer, including almost dying that one time.

Is it wrong that this is also the most alive he's felt in a long time, too?

He doesn't have smoke bombs, or a sword, or a chain-sickle, so he runs up and throws his weight behind a punch.

It… could've gone better.

Both the monster and Howard in its right hand fist in the air look down at him and blink, unimpressed.

Turns out bare fists aren't so great at hurting ten feet tall mammoth beasts.

"Um…" Randy says. "Give me him back? Please?"

Howard and the monster exchange glances, the monster's face saying, _do you_ _know this dweeb_; and Howard's face saying, _actually no, I don't know this guy, we met in the library today._

Randy scowls. Like, he gets it, he's not as cool or powerful without the Ninja suit, but he did jump in as a civilian.

Surely that garners him _some _cool points.

The monster takes the moment to swipe at him, Howard screaming again as it moves.

Randy's body just_ goes _; does a backflip that probably looks like the _brucest _cheese and follows up with a run back in and a round kick to its stomach.

The stanked kid has the audacity to chuckle down at him. Howard gives him a weak thumbs up, though.

"Thanks for trying, Cunningham!" He shouts down.

"Trying? _Trying _?! How dare–"

"Your punches are puny!" Stanked man says. "They are little nerd hits. Adorable!"

"Don't call me adora – oh crap!" Randy says as he fails to dodge a second grab.

Now he's in the same predicament as Howard, held in the air by giant hands that are gearing up to see him smashed and/or dead.

"Sup." Randy says to his best friend in the entire world. Might be the last thing they say to each other.

Randy doesn't think he regrets picking that.

Howard smiles at him, then winces as the monster's grip tightens around his middle.

That might've been the end of both of them – or at the very least, the beginning of a rough beating – but that's when an additional bit of roof caves in.

"Somebody call for me?"

Randy gasps, thinking that there's no way ten minutes have passed already, wondering just how Jake got here so fast. Then he slumps.

"Oh."

There he is, the late dude of the hour, dressed in black jimmy-jams with red stripes, surveying the scene as though he expects them to cheer for him showing up at all.

"Glad you could make it, Ninja." Howard says sarcastically.

That deserves a sneaky high five, Randy decides, and reaches over to give him one. Howard accepts.

"Woah, what is going on in here?" Ninja wants to know. "What are you guys up to?"

The stanked students glance towards each other. There's this faint panic coming across their stanked faces, as though they have been confronted with a pop quiz in class that they haven't studied for.

"Um. Smashing students?" One suggests.

The Ninja glares until the monster shuffles its feet, properly shamed.

"Not cool, dude." He says, utterly serious. "Smashing people is _never _cool."

Randy rolls his eyes.

He does his best to try and zone out after that, but it's difficult.

The monster drops him and Howard when Ninja chucks a ninja-cold ball at it, and their descent to the ground is less than graceful.

"Ow." Howard says from nearby.

Randy sighs as he picks himself up. This end of things has never felt more humiliating.

If only someone were recording this, a voice in his head whispers, then neither Danny nor Jake would bring up plain old 'Randy Cunningham' being a hero ever again.

He snags the back of Howard's collar and begins to drag him away from the action. Howard lets Randy slide him to a nice little corner, hands folded over his chest, seemingly contemplating life and maybe what their test grade will be since they haven't studied. He's content as always to be out of the fight.

Randy isn't as lucky.

It's hard not to stiffen as Randy hears the Ninja call out familiar moves, as he hears the sounds of monsters hissing in fury and pain, as he hears students cry in fear and relief.

Everything is so _familiar_. Part of him feels like he's out of his own body – like he's still the Ninja because of _course _he is, but he's observing it all from the outside.

Despite his best efforts, Randy watches the Ninja kick butt. He watches the new kid find papers (essays, it looks like maybe) on the monsters' bodies and slice them up with the sword using as much skill and grace as an age-old samurai.

Randy gets to watch green smoke rise from moaning, now-regular students in football jerseys as the Ninja saves the day yet again.

People cheer. That one teacher looks torn between anger and joy. Others gathered outside gawk.

"Thank you, thank you," Someone who is not Randy Cunningham says, bowing to the crowd. "So sorry about your campus library, but hey, you can't win them all! Ninja _out_."

Ninja tosses a smoke bomb to the ground and vanishes and it's _dumb _that Randy wants to stomp his foot and scream at him to come back so he can punch the new Ninja is his new ninja face.

It's so, so dumb and selfish and hateful.

And Randy wants to do it anyway.

"Look on the bright side, Cunningham," Howard says, still lying on the floor. He seems to have given up on moving.

Randy crosses his arms over his chest. He pretends he's not pouting.

"What's the bright side, then?"

Howard shrugs.

"At least we're not dead? Or seriously injured."

Randy slumps, even angry at that, upset at how relieved he feels. He's never been so scared before, since as the Ninja he's never had to be – this is the first dose of _real _danger Howard's been in since Randy gave up the Mask..

It's kind of a wake up call.

"I'm glad you're okay, bro." Randy admits, dropping to sit beside his friend on the floor.

"I'm glad I'm okay, too. This new Ninja got here _real _late."

"Yeah." Randy fights back a vindictive smile because it really _wasn't _amusing. Then he blinks, says, "Oh, hey. I should call Jake back. Tell him we aren't dead, or whatever."

"Yeah, that'd probably be good. Oh! Ask him if he can pick up food on the way here!"

"No."

"Come on, Cunningham! We almost _died_, we deserve tacos!"

"No…?"

"You know you want tacos now."

"...Okay, _maybe_. I'll ask him."

"Yes!"

Randy wonders if Jake is flying, if he'll even pick up at all. His friend is probably pretty worried about them.

All of this action has taken Randy's mind off Danny and that whole situation, but with that one thought everything comes rushing back.

He's resigned himself to Danny simply being mad at him, but the idea circles his brain; what if Danny _were _to be in trouble, just like they were? What if he were in danger?

Randy would be helpless yet again. Less than useless, maybe – punches do even _less _than nothing to ghosts, who can go intangible.

Randy would be in the way. He'd just be watching Danny get hurt, or getting hurt himself.

Somehow, even though all of this has occured to Randy before, it's never _stung _like it does in this moment.

Jake suddenly picks up.

"Hello? Randy? Randy, you there, man?!" Jake is saying. "RC, answer me this instant, I swear to Fu Dog –"

Randy fights against a wave of negative emotion. He tries to summon a smile, even though Jake can't see him.

"Hey, Jake. It's fine, we're all fine. Sorry we worried you, dude. The Ninja showed up and took care of things."

There's a pause.

"R-really? You're...you're good? Just like that?"

Randy has never felt _less _good. He hopes it doesn't show in his voice.

"We're safe. No more monsters. Er...no more library, either, really, but I'm sure it'll be rebuilt within the month."

"But you said things broke bad – "

"Things can unbreak, Jake."

"...Mmkay. I believe you're alright because you're talking and I don't hear anymore like, monster noises, but Randy. _Randy_. Things do not 'unbreak'."

"What do you call gluing something back together then?"

Randy can feel Jake getting annoyed through the phone. It actually makes him smile.

"That's calling _fixing _it!" Jake says loudly.

"Right. You fix it, you unbreak it, same thing."

"No! It is not the –" Jake's frustrated sigh is a beautiful sound. "Look, I'm almost to Norrisville. You almost gave me a heart attack so you _will _buy me dinner before I go home."

Randy shrugs. He's got thirty something bucks left in his bank account. That oughta do it, right?

"Sure. We're still in the library but we can meet you at Taco Bell. The one right off Samurai street?"

"Fine, I – aw man, hold on, Spud's calling."

Randy sits up straight.

"With news about Danny?"

"I dunno. Sorry, I'll call you back, kay?"

Then Jake hangs up on him for the second time that day.

Randy stares down at his phone. It's on low battery now, which, on the list of wonk things to happen to him today, is just the icing on the cake. It's petty. It's inconsequential.

Randy doesn't think he's upset about it. More than anything else, he is suddenly, overwhelmingly _tired_. He's just _tired_.

It has been sort of a roller coaster afternoon, he thinks.

"I need new friends." He says abruptly.

Howard groans as he sits up.

"Probably." He agrees, patting Randy on the arm.

They spend the next five minutes trying to pull each other to their feet without getting to their own first. It ends up looking like they just don't understand how hugging works.

Finally, both standing, they brush off dust from their clothes and make their way to the closest exit – a huge hole in a wall that used to face the empty space in-between here and the fine arts building.

They step over debris and push through a crowd of students, who at this point, must be standing around this mess as an excuse not to go to class. It's a tale as old as Norrisville time.

When they finally make it to the Taco Bell, Jake is already waiting for them.

He's scowling, hair a windswept mess.

"Randy Cunningham!" He shouts as they approach.

"Uh-oh." Randy mutters. "He said my full name."

At least it wasn't 'Randall' this time.

Then Jake sprints the distance between them and tackles Randy in the angriest hug he's ever been a part of.

Angrier even than his last hug, which is really saying something.

Even though Jake is pretty short and small (especially for someone who can turn into a large dragon), he's got some muscles going on these days; so it takes all of Randy's balance to stay standing when he's tackled.

"Hey Jake," Randy grunts out, staggering under their combined weight. "Nice to see you too."

Jake lets go, his feet touching the ground again, and punches Randy in the shoulder.

"That's for freaking me out!"

"Hey, ow! Like I haven't been beaten up enough today!" Randy says. He's joking, but Jake does look sorry.

Howard rolls his eyes.

"He's had worse."

Jake manages a smile at both of them.

"Glad you guys are okay."

"Yeah yeah yeah, mushy feelings, whatever – can we get food now?"

Everyone who is not Howard rolls their eyes and they make it into the building, sitting down with food soon after.

That's about as much patience as Randy has left in his tank for the day.

"So spill! What did Spud find out about Danny? Did you track his phone?" He demands.

Jake munches on a chip and waits an exaggerated amount of time before swallowing and speaking.

"Before I tell you, you wanna explain what's been up with you today?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you _mean _what do I mean? Uh, you and Howard had to face monsters _alone _for the first time since," He glances about and lowers his voice. "_You _know, and the whole time you were more freaked about Danny than your own safety!"

"He isn't answering my texts!"

Jake gives him the weirdest look; a mix of disbelief, exasperation, and pure confusion.

"So?" He says.

Randy huffs a sigh.

"So, he could be in trouble."

"RC, _you _were in trouble. Danny does this ghosting thing – _don't _–" He glares as both Howard and Randy snicker at the pun. "– he does this like, every other week. Dude loses more chargers than anyone I've ever met. Do you even remember how many phones he's dropped in the Ghost Zone _alone_?"

"Five?" Howard hazards a guess as he takes another bite of his taco.

This is not going in a direction Randy approves of, so he bites down the instinctual urge to say, _six, actually_.

Jake raises an eyebrow at him as though he knows what Randy is thinking. It's more than a little freaky.

"He's up to six, now." Jake says.

Howard shakes his head in pity, ignoring or not noticing the weird, silent communication going on between the other two.

"See, this is why he's broke."

"What I'm trying to say," Jake continues, staring Randy down. "Is that it seems like you're obsessing. Maybe he's in danger, sure, and I'll check up on it, but DP has been in danger before. He can handle it. Why are you suddenly stressing about this _today_?"

It's...not a bad point, per say.

Randy chews on his bottom lip as he tries to come up with an answer. He realizes he looks too defensive, arms crossed and hunched over in his chair, and tries to sit up straighter, to look more chill.

He opens his mouth to lie – then sees Howard sitting right beside him. If Randy doesn't explain, then Howard will, he knows.

Randy deflates.

"I think he's mad at me." He admits, toying with his straw. "We had this fight – I mean, it wasn't really a _fight _– we had this mild disagreement more like – and I kinda snapped at him? I shouldn't have, it was dumb...but it seemed like we were cool, though, and now –"

"Now he's not returning your texts." Jake finishes.

There's something that walks the line between pity and genuine empathy in Jake's eyes.

Both Danny and Jake have eyes that betray an in-humanness to them, especially in certain direct light; Danny's eyes always seem to glow slightly; and Jake's pupils can shrink to uncanny lines, like a lizard's. Even so, they never look cruel or dangerous.

They just give the look of something _more_.

And that is exactly the sort of detail Randy never used to notice, never used to care about, until he started feeling like something _less_.

He shouldn't have snapped at Danny for it.

He shouldn't have pretended he could've fought those monsters today.

He shouldn't keep getting angry at his friends for reminding him of what he already knows. What he's _supposed _to already know.

"You know, _I'm _mad at you." Jake says, apropos of nothing. He's not scowling, not breathing out smoke, not remotely even glaring in Randy's direction.

His statement doesn't match his expression.

It's fair to say this catches Randy off guard.

"Say what?"

"I'm mad. At you." Jake repeats.

Randy gapes. His surprise costs him his second taco, as Howard reaches over and snatches it in the interim.

"Why are you mad at me? What did I do?"

Now Jake frowns at him.

"Do you want a list?" He says. He taps things off on his fingers. "First you didn't tell me about the whole mind wipe thing –"

"B-but last week you said we were cool!"

"Doesn't mean I'm not still angry on the inside!" Jake sounds ticked now, too. "Like, you _forgot _us, man! And you knew you were going to! Why wouldn't you bring that up at some point? How could you not think that we wouldn't try and meet up with you afterwards, that we weren't going to be so _confused _and hurt?"

Randy doesn't know what to say.

"I told you I'm sorry! It – I didn't mean for it to go down like that."

Jake exhales sharply, features softening not as though Randy's calming him down, but like Jake is reigning himself in with a mantra of something like, _he's an idiot, it's not his fault, he's an idiot. _

"I know. I know you're sorry. I know you didn't – _mean _to be cruel." Jake says. "But that doesn't make the months of you forgetting me just go away. Me and Danny had to move on, bro. We had to accept that you were _never _going to remember us – that all those memories we shared were gone."

Howard, who has stayed out of this until now, puts in,

"It wasn't easy, Cunningham."

Randy finds he can't look either of them in the eye. It seems he _isn't _done hurting his friends after all. How could he not notice how much this scarred them?

"I know you wanna push past this, Randy, but not all of us can. And," Jake runs a hand down his face, looking beyond weary. "This wasn't even my original point. Gah. Sorry."

Randy draws shapes on the table with his finger, still not strong enough to glance up.

"I um...I'm sorry. Again. W-what _was _your original point?"

Jake seems to need to think about this. He abruptly snaps his fingers.

"Right! That I'm mad at you. I'm mad about the forgetting thing. I'm mad about the prank war thing. I'm mad that you got wrapped up in danger today and you didn't ask for my help until it was too late! I'm mad that you focused in on Danny so much that you nearly got _seriously _injured."

Then Jake does the strangest thing.

Then Jake smiles at him, fang poking over his lip.

"I'm mad at you, but man, you gotta know that doesn't change anything."

Randy's gaze darts up to meet Jake's and it's _kind_.

"We're still the Secret Trio, bro. I promise, even if Danny's mad at you too – which, considering this is _you _we're talking about, he probably is – he's not gonna stop being friends with you."

Randy thinks it would be incredibly dorky of him to cry in a Taco Bell.

"Yeah?"

"_Yeah. _Like, it might take me some time to really, fully forgive you, but I'll get there. And we're friends even when I'm angry. It's – RC, we're mad but we're also _really happy _to have you back. I hope you get that."

"Please don't bust into tears in Taco Bell, Cunningham." Howard says beside him.

"I won't." Randy says, unconvincingly.

Howard rolls his eyes and mutters something about how he can't take Randy anywhere, but Randy doesn't care.

Randy doesn't even care that he's sniffling.

"That was...that was so sweet, Jake." He tells his friend. "I really appreciate that."

Jake beams.

"Thanks. I've been working on a nicer, more compassionate Jake this year."

Randy rubs away the beginnings of tears.

"Its working."

Both friends give him a second to compose himself, which is nice. This is it – these moments right here, they are the ones his mind returns to when he gets too wrapped up in what he's not anymore. These moments make him _okay _with not being the Ninja anymore.

Jake just added a new, bright moment to the pile today.

"So," Randy says eventually, still tired but grinning all the same. "What's up with Danny?"

Jake smiles back at him. There's an odd tinge to it – something exasperated, maybe.

"Aw, man. Here," He says. "Look."

He pushes his phone to Randy's side of the table and Randy squints at the screen. Jake likes to keep it fully dimmed.

The phone is open to Snapchat, to something Sam Manson posted to her story a few hours ago.

In the picture she looks clearly done, frowning and seemingly rolling her eyes. The text across the picture is simple. It makes Randy want to laugh and cry at the same time.

Howard, who's leaning over Randy's shoulder to see, says,

"_Oohh_." Then begins to snicker.

Randy has to read it again, feeling dumb, so _dumb_, so so _so _dumb –

_My clueless bf lost his phone again. Need something, call me instead. _

"I guess Danny's not mad at me after all." He says aloud.

"Well. Not about your fight, at least." Jake says.

Randy puts his head down on the table, too tired to care how unsanitary the table probably is. He's _done_. Not angry, not happy anymore, just fully and completely _done_.

"Thanks, Jake." He says, deciding never to move again. He thinks he might be blushing, which is new for him.

"Anytime, bro. Anytime."

And Randy's really starting to get that Jake _means _it.

There are definitely better ways to spend a Wednesday, Randy thinks, smiling slightly, but there are a lot worse ones, too.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading! Only one chapter left for this fic, the + 1 time.


	6. The One Time He Couldn't

This is it! The last chapter! Thank you for reading!

* * *

+1.

This is all Randy's fault.

They came for _him_. He asked them to do this, he knew this Ninja couldn't handle it. He thought they wouldn't have any trouble winning this battle without him.

Two thirds of the Secret Trio were supposed to be more than enough.

This isn't even their city, he thinks. They shouldn't even be here.

There never used to be so many dragon and ghost sightings in Norrisville. They are here – and it's the only reason they are _ever _here – for Randy. For their friend.

The sky is dark above him as Randy runs. It's only twelve thirty, but there's almost no sun visible in the sky.

Nobody else is around him on the streets, nobody else stupid enough to run towards the battle instead of away from it.

No, they have all fled to safety and anxiously watch the battle on their TVs, some poor newsperson trying to film it all from above in a helicopter.

That's where Randy was, anyway. That's where Howard is now.

It had hurt, to be the one to have to watch. Howard never seems to mind, but Randy does. Empathetically.

Then he saw the splash of green blood, the falling of red –

Randy runs faster.

He feels everything; the pounding of his feet; the non-stop echo of his heartbeat in his ears; the way his breath catches in his throat, making him feel on the edge of a panic attack. It never used to feel this way when he was the Ninja.

He could've run twice as fast, he thinks as he struggles on. He could've used his scarf and transversed whole city blocks in seconds.

He could've _been there already_, helping his friends. He could've saved them.

The sky grows even darker as he nears the site, something heavy fogging up the air and worsening his breathing.

He has the time to think, _I hate wizards_, and thinks it over and over again. They are different than sorcerers somehow (it's like the difference between alligators and crocodiles in that there _are _differences but he can never remember them exactly right).

But this one.

This one.

The way Danny explained how ghosts work to him was this; you become your obsession. Whatever you lived for, be it love or hunting or revenge or even boxes – that becomes all you can focus on. It doesn't make you good or evil. It can make you callous. Cruel, sometimes. Mostly, though, ghosts are _obsessed_. Single-minded.

In life, the wizard was consumed by the idea of power. In death, he has more power than most can even imagine, but it will never sate him. He's too far gone now. He'll always want more.

Randy throws himself around a street corner and hates the wizard more forcefully in his head.

Stupid wizard. Stupid ability to absorb other people. Stupid unpronounceable name (like who names their kid Hoskelis Torreflame?!).

Okay, that last one probably shouldn't have been on the list. Or at least not so close to the 'absorbing human beings' thing.

Randy passes a car smashed to hell and thinks, _please let that have been the wizard. _If one of his friends had fallen and left in their wake the hood so completely mangled...it would not be good for them.

Randy shouldn't be doing this.

He slows to a stop in an alley that's ten, maybe twenty yards from the battle.

The scene...it's terrible. There are neon green splatters in the street, Danny's blood littering the ground; Jake is still in the air, but he's flying slow and fighting from a distance, like he's hurt; and the Ninja is nowhere to be seen, maybe off helping Danny somewhere. In the middle of the growing darkness is something that Randy isn't convinced used to be a human.

He wears a robe, like all wizards do. His feet have disappeared like every ghosts' do when they fly. He carries a spectral staff and a grin.

He doesn't seem to be struggling to hold his spell of growing night over the city as he attempts to blast Jake out of the sky. He seems like he's having fun.

This is a battlefield and the thought plays again in Randy's mind – _I shouldn't be here_.

What can he hope to do to help –

He locks eyes on bright white hair and a slumped over Ninja and all previous thoughts vanish like smoke into the thick air. Randy wheezes, still out of breath from his sprint, but readies himself to book it across a battlefield to the alley on the other side of the street.

Some small part of him wonders if there might be another solution that doesn't involve Leeroy Jenkins-ing this.

Randy pauses. Then, grinning, rushes forwards anyway.

He's not _that _stupid. He waits until he thinks the wizard isn't looking. Speeding, he makes it to the middle of the street and ducks behind an abandoned truck.

Randy peeks his head out, heart much, much calmer now that he's here on the battlefield. Like, he's in much greater danger than he was even two minutes ago, but he can see his friends and he feels better.

Seeing his chance, Randy front-rolls the rest of the distance and jumps to standing on the other side of the street. All that separates him, Danny, and a Ninja (is he in the Nomicon? Oh _great _) from the wizard is a hair cut place that's part of this new strip mall in town. It doesn't seem like the wizard would have any trouble bringing the building to rubble.

But Jake's keeping him preoccupied, Randy reminds himself. He hopes it lasts a little while.

The Ninja looks like he needs serious help.

"Danny! Danny! Phantom?" Randy shakes Danny's shoulders, but all he gets is a groan.

Randy doesn't like how Danny is still dripping green blood everywhere.

"You haven't gone back to human form, though, so that's – "

A flash of white interrupts Randy's mutter.

He facepalms.

"That's on me. Shouldn't have tempted fate."

Sighing, he takes off his jacket and presses it into Danny's hurt side. The blood is red now that he's in his Danny Fenton form, not pure red like most people's (it's always a little darker, and sometimes it still glows in the dark), but it does seem to be pouring out faster.

Randy takes a moment, as he tries to slow his friend's bleeding, to take stock of the situation.

The Ninja is drooling and is slumped with his back against the wall, mind clearly in the open Nomicon resting in his lap.

Randy pokes his head gingerly out from their cover.

"Jake's not looking good." He thinks aloud as he sits back with Danny.

"Come on. Think, Randy. What would someone smart do in this situation?"

It's difficult. Maybe it'd be difficult even if he were someone with brains.

All Randy has are two unconscious allies (Ninja and Danny), two seriously _wounded _allies (Jake and Danny), a mildly distracted wizard, and absolutely no helpful skills.

He can't use Healing Hands on Danny. He can't give Jake a break. He can't kick the wizard's butt.

He probably can't even go into the Nomicon to fish out the new Ninja without running the serious risk of losing his memories again.

Randy Cunningham ran all the way here to save his friends.

Except he forgot the part where he can't do that anymore.

This is all his fault and he can't even _fix it. _

"What am I doing here?" Randy whispers. He slumps over Danny's prone body and laughs in a hopeless way, helplessness searing like a brand into his gut.

"Seriously, Danny. What am I _doing _here? I can't help you! I can't help Jake! I couldn't even save _me _if it came down to that." He tries to blink tears away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you here. I should've...just stayed with Howard."

Randy closes his eyes and lets tears fall down his cheeks.

He never thinks things through. Just this once, though, maybe he should've tried_. _Maybe Danny and Jake would've been alright, at least.

Two thirds of the Secret Trio, still going strong, still being heroes.

Randy's eyes snap open.

The world suddenly distorts, sight blurring and sound coming in disjointed and muffled. Every part of him _sings_. He can't tell if it's a good thing or not. It's all tunneled, down to trembling hands and a skyrocketing heartbeat and an idea that should make him _stop_, should make him burst with guilt and self-loathing.

He doesn't think things through. He's impulsive, that's like his thing.

Now, Randy wonders if he should be fighting that part of himself. He wonders if he even could.

"It's a bad idea." He says to no one. "I can't – I did make a promise. And it probably wouldn't even work for me anymore, right?"

It couldn't be as easy as borrowing the Mask. The Nomicon would stop him. It had in the past, when he did things it didn't approve of.

Except...except Mac Antfee wanted the suit. He wanted it back and he was prepared to take it. Surely he wouldn't have tried if putting the mask on again if it would've have done squat for him.

"I'm not the Ninja anymore." Randy reminds himself. "I can't, I'm _not the Ninja_. Everybody has been saying it and it's _true, _I'm not! I'm not the Ninja anymore!"

But this one isn't cutting it. He's too green, too new. This Ninja isn't protecting Jake, isn't saving Danny. By the time he learns whatever the Nomicon is telling him, it might already be too late for Randy's friends.

It might be too late for Norrisville.

Something in Randy clicks. Something settles, like acceptance, like hope, like _longing_.

It's as easy as giving in. As simple as tilting the Ninja's head one way, finding the seam, and lifting the mask up. No strength is required.

No one catches him. The Ninja doesn't wake up in the middle of it. The Nomicon doesn't flash at him.

The entire anti-climatic affair takes a second, and then the fabric is warm in Randy's hands. And then there's a small kid on the ground, eyes still glazed open. He wears a soccer jersey under a light jacket. There's a tie holding back dark hair. He doesn't look like anything special.

Then again, Randy supposes, neither did he.

"So...I'm sorry about this?" He tells both the Nomicon and the unconscious kid. "I promise I'll give it back. Right after I heal Danny. And Jake. And see if I can help stop this wizard again."

This would normally be the part where Howard would point out that Randy is breaking a promise right now, why would this next one be any different.

But it will be.

Randy will even accept the consequences – like permanent distrust from the Ninja or the Nomicon being furious with him or – or even being stripped of his memories, for good this time.

Randy isn't going to leave his friends to fight alone. That's not what a hero would do.

He takes out his phone and texts Howard, just for nostalgia's sake (and maybe as a heads up, too),

_It's Ninja o'clock. _

Then he puts the mask on.

Randy wouldn't say he's surprised that it still works for him. He would say he's glad.

There's nothing quite comparable to the Suit twisting around him, limbs bursting with magical strength, power warm in his fingertips. If anything, the feeling makes him think of seeing his friends again, after so much time apart; or taking down that mugger a few months ago; it's courage and home and a _part of him _that he welcomes back tearfully.

It's a part of him he thought he'd never get to have anymore. And well...maybe he never will again.

Maybe he'll never even remember what this is, that it has a name, that Randy Cunningham has always been a hero (_ Danny was right, there's no walking away _) – maybe he'll have to forget again, after this.

"First I gotta make sure everyone survives." He says.

Randy gives an experimental punch and kick combo, unable to resist grinning. Then he turns to his friend.

Feeling incredibly rusty, Randy has to try Healing Hands three times before he gets it right. Only then does light emanate from his gloved palms and swirl around Danny's wound.

Danny stirs slightly. He doesn't wake.

_Give it a minute to sink in, _Randy thinks, half-wondering if he did it wrong somehow. It wouldn't be the first time.

Bright side: Danny definitely doesn't look so pale or so pained.

Not-so-bright-side: Randy doesn't know whether Healing Hands fixes blood loss, or if the amount Danny has already misplaced is enough to kill him.

To stave off heaps of anxiety, and because it needs to be done, he stands, hands on his hips, and turns around.

"Now, where to hide you, little Ninja." He says to the only other person in the alley way.

It only takes an ounce of his strength to scoop the kid up and Randy laughs, because he's strong and he could carry him as plain Randy, but it would never be so easy.

Randy has missed being _so much more. _

"No, not there," he mutters as he runs. "That has too much garbage. Ooh! I know!"

He settles the kid on top of a roof two blocks away, on top of a new apartment building. It's close enough that the kid could orient himself and find the battle again, hopefully after it's over, but far enough away that the kid is in little danger of getting hurt.

Randy debates for a moment, teetering on the roof's edge.

"I should leave a note."

Except he doesn't have any paper with him...hmm.

He manages to find a pen and writes, SORRY! BACK SOON on the kid's hand. It's the best he can do.

Then Randy takes out a sword and swings his way back with scarf held expertly in his hand.

This is all his fault. And he's going to fix it.

* * *

If Danny was surprised to regain consciousness alone, in human form, in a mildly disgusting alley, Randy doesn't see it. However, he _does _get to see his friend's face when he back-flips down as Randy Cunningham, college freshman Ninja (eh, that just doesn't have the same ring to it).

The Ninja mask does a good job obscuring the Ninja's identity, but Randy is taller, paler, and wears a different suit than the (proper? Real? 9th grade?)_ other _Ninja did ten minutes ago.

So it doesn't take much squinting for Danny to say, startled,

"Randy? Is that you?"

"Excuse me, Phantom, sir, but that's _the Ninja _to you." Randy says, arms crossed over his chest and a grin on his face.

Danny, still Fenton, gapes at him.

"Bu – what –"

Randy finds himself beaming, loving the familiar weight of his scarf around his neck, the cool metal of his sword, and the soft material covering on his face.

"What? Nothing to say?" Randy teases. "No compliments on my new old suit? I'm hurt, DP."

"But you said – I can't – _seriously _– " Danny struggles to find words.

Randy giggles. He's downright basking in the glow of this, being the _Ninja _again in the company of someone who knows how much it matters.

He opens his mouth –

They hear a loud crash echo down the street, the sound uncannily like a medium-sized dragon plummeting hard into something metal. It sounds like it hurt.

Danny shakes off his surprise – he is a professional – and changes form, two white circles climbing his body and disappearing.

"_ Okay_. Seriously." Danny Phantom says. "You gotta make up your mind, dude. Are you the Ninja or not?"

Danny is joking, clearly, and even rolls his eyes as he floats up.

Randy's grin dims to a smile.

"I'm really, really not."

He shrugs, then adds,

"Except for today, I guess. Time to go help Jake?"

Phantom nods as he takes to the sky.

"Time to go help Jake."

There's something in the air, now, something strong and confident building between them as they rush out from behind their cover. It's the _something _that comes from having a team again. It's that camaraderie, that familiarity and trust that comes with having friends at your back who you know will catch you if you fall.

Randy has missed this. By Danny's beaming face, he has too.

_Hopefully Danny hasn't missed it _that _much, _A voice in the back of Randy's mind whispers.

Randy dismisses it quickly; he can't think about that right now. He needs to do as he always does, and think about the consequences _later_. He needs to _do _now and _think _later.

The moment they swing around the corner, Randy has no more trouble _doing _in the present.

The scene is so much worse than before.

The sky nears pitch-black around the wizard and it seems to move with him as he flies down towards a prone dragon Jake, who is desperately trying to crawl away.

Red scales and a red jacket have always made it hard to tell when Jake is injured. That doesn't matter now – Jake leaves a horrifying bloody trail in his wake as he stumbles backwards.

Randy feels his heart stop at the sight. His whole body goes numb.

The wizard is going to perform his party trick, he's going to absorb Jake for his power, and then that'll be it, no more Jake ever, he won't be dead or a ghost, he'll just be _gone _–

Randy doesn't remember summoning a Tengu Fireball, he doesn't even think he called out its name which is very unlike him.

He blinks and there's heat singeing his fingertips. He blinks and the wizard's form is on fire.

Most of the fire is absorbed into his form automatically, but it must still hurt somewhat – Torreflame spins away from Jake and it feels good to see the amused expression fall off his face.

"You!" He growls, so cliche villain that Randy would laugh if he couldn't still see Jake trying helplessly to flee, blood pooling in the street at an alarming rate. But he can.

Randy's heart hardens.

"Me." He says.

Danny fires a frost ray at the wizard from behind, catching him off guard while his focus is on the Ninja (no, on _Randy _).

Then it's his turn next.

It's something like therapy, coming at the magical ghost with all his anger and hatred and pent-up emotions.

He uses his fists and feet and sword when he knows the wizard is too distracted or disoriented to go intangible; and when the wizard slips past the material, he pulls out electricity balls and special, red colored orbs he's sure the current Ninja has no knowledge of. These are laced with blood blossom and sink into ghosts' essence on impact, and they hurt like a _witch_, though Randy does have to be careful that he doesn't hit Danny.

They _might _be able to trap Torreflame in a thermos. Not yet, though. Not when he's still this powerful.

Right now, Randy knows that Jake should be the priority.

He waits for an opening, for a moment to break away so he can heal his friend – because it does no one any good if they both get taken out while Randy is trying to heal Jake in the middle of battle.

It takes longer than Randy wants. The two of them are trying, but the wizard is _powerful _and it takes both of them to meet him head-on. The three of them could stand a much better chance.

Randy sees his moment. He drops to the ground, dodging a blast of amplified ghost ray that flies through empty space and into another part of the strip mall. It's timed beautifully; while the wizard had focused power on the Ninja, Danny was taking a deep, deep breath, charging up his ghostly wail.

Randy flips to Jake's side right as it hits. He wishes he had Ninja earplugs, because it is _brutal. _

Torreflame and Danny are mid-air, so Randy and Jake miss the worst of it, but it still makes the ground shake. Randy's teeth ache, his balance tips, and it takes all of his attention to painstakingly make the motions of Healing Hands instead of clapping his hands over his ears.

Danny can only really keep the wizard immobilized as long as he can keep screaming with his power. He only has so much breath and energy.

Sweat beads Randy's brow as he concentrates, knowing he can't speed the process up anymore. He starts to wonder if his ears are bleeding. He wonders whether Danny's ghostly wail could make the wizard weak enough to stuff in a thermos.

It feels like an eternity, kneeling over his friend, having his back to a floating, monster of an enemy while Randy's heart pounds and his brain is scrambled by the wail.

Randy makes it. He makes Jake's wounds close and glow and he's going to be _okay_, Jake's going to be _fine _– and oh, Randy wishes he had time to hold Jake's hand or carry him further away from danger, but he doesn't, he really, _really _doesn't –

Danny's stopped screaming. He no longer collapses after this attack, but he sinks to the earth and looks winded.

There's a split-second of time – Danny nods at Randy, as if to say _your turn _– and then Randy's throwing shuriken and blood blossom balls at the still hovering wizard. Randy hears a cry of pain and smirks as he throws his scarf and swings up to punch his enemy in the face.

Sometimes you just gotta punch psychotic evil ghost-wizards in the face. It can be its own form of healing.

Unfortunately, it's also not very effective. Randy decides to switch tactics.

Hanging mid-air on a taut scarf, Randy tugs back his fist, waves of blue pulsing around it, and punches forwards. He's too far away to make physical contact, but the blue grows and amplifies and _smacks _into Torreflame as a combination of Hydro Hands and Air Fist freezes him solid.

Randy cheers. Then says,

"Uh-oh."

Because freezing Torreflame in a block of ice was great and all, but now his levitation sputters and stills – and soon he'll be falling to the earth. Where the ice will probably shatter. Freeing him immediately. Because that's just kind of the luck Randy has.

Yeah, Randy's going to need some more help until Danny and Jake get back on their feet. Randy loosens his grip on the scarf and descends to the ground, words already pouring from his mouth.

The wizard falls faster.

"Stay grounded, do not waver," He mutters to himself. "The dirt itself will pay you a favor, to stop your foes and hold them back–"

The spell's words almost escape his memory, it's been so long since he's needed them, but even in such a stressful, tense moment, once he's started the chant they just _flow_.

The block of ice around the wizard shatters as he hits ground, and he is instantly staggering to stand upright.

But Randy's finished the spell.

"–harness the soil for an Earth Attack!"

He manages to summon five Ninjas made out of dirt and concrete. Randy grins at them all.

They look fierce.

"Alright Ninjas," He says. "Get 'em."

* * *

Time blurs. If asked afterwards, Randy might be able to give a play-by-play account of team Ninjas vs the wizard, by in the moment things just _happen, _and he tries to keep up.

One conjured ninja spins around a second one and chucks them at the wizard.

"_ You _can't duplicate–" Torreflame tries to say before a sword pierces his gut. Ghosts don't need air and usually don't bleed much (Danny's an exception, being only half ghost), but it's still gotta hurt.

By the way his eyes widen and he mouths soundlessly, it hurts a _lot_.

Meanwhile, one concrete ninja (concreja? Nincrete? Eh, Randy'll workshop their name later) rushes up to give the wizard a flurry of kicks, leaving him unable to recover.

The sky is beginning to lighten, Randy realizes distantly.

Torreflame is beginning to lose his focus.

Unfortunately, Randy's advantage doesn't last. Torreflame, sword still sticking out of his chest, straightens, face furious, and shoves his fist through a concrete ninja's head.

It should scrape his knuckles, should cause him _some _pain, but Randy doesn't see Torreflame so much as flinch.

Randy shrugs. _Villains_, man. What can you do.

He decides to use the opening to burn hot, vision turning red as fire races down his arms and into outstretched hands. His fingers splay outward, the edges of his palms touching, as Tengu fire – more than he intends, honestly – explodes from his form.

The wizard sees it coming and flies up, out of the way. Instead of hitting building or air, the fireball crashes into an unlucky dirt ninja and it melts into mud.

"Oh, man, hot, hot," Randy mutters, waving his palms around to cool off burning hands.

The three remaining Ninjas surge forwards towards the enemy.

Torreflame inhales as he rises in the sky (it's gotta be for _show_, come on, dead people don't breathe) and Randy hears a loud, metallic _clank _as the conjured ninja sword phases through his stomach and hits the ground.

He looks seriously _ticked_. That's fair, after being stabbed and all, but he attacked a city guarded by an ancient, powerful Ninja and his friends. What did he expect was going to happen?

"Enough of this!" He cries, so angry his form trembles. It looks unstable. "I refuse to fight these _worthless _creations!"

"Hey, they aren't worthless!" Randy says. In the back of his head, he's wondering where Danny went, and _when_. There's no longer red at the edges of his vision, so Jake's gone too.

Randy sincerely hopes they left to get a thermos. Or a ghost-proof net of some kind.

"I came to fight the Ninja!" Torreflame continues, ignoring Randy. "To steal his home, to kill his friends! To bring the world eternal night! To demonstrate my absolute _power _!"

As he speaks, his body darkens. It's as though the dark mist he'd spread throughout the city is being absorbed back into his form, his normally already ghostly skin turning deep grey. His eyes are two red beacons. They are almost blindingly bright.

They don't so much as blink as he raises his staff and concentrates; as a thousand tiny, searing dots of energy rain down; as Randy yells and scrambles to duck for cover under a car; as the rest of Randy's army literally _evaporates_.

Great, Torreflame can make it rain acid. Like he wasn't powerful enough before.

"Eternal night would get boring and you know it!" Randy shouts from his cover. The Suit is intact, but the skin underneath aches. It's like a thousand small patches of the worst sunburn he's ever gotten.

"I guess we'll see." Is the retort he gets back.

Randy gets a second to breathe. Maybe two seconds. Then the truck he's cowering under is yanked up and tossed away by telekinesis pouring from the wizard's staff.

The Ninja is left lying on his belly, in plain view, staring up at the hovering ghost.

He tries a grin. The effect is mostly lost with the mask on, but he tries anyway.

"Um–" He says. Then he chokes, his lungs suddenly cut off from air.

Torreflame's staff glows sickly neon green, and as he raises it, so too does Randy's body rise. His hands instinctively clutch at his neck, at where the pressure is holding him, but his fingers find nothing because this is _magic. _He's not being strangled by physical means – telekinesis is what's killing him.

Spots dance across his vision as his feet scrape earth, then touch nothing, and he rises still through the air. He lifts ten, twenty feet up, moving closer and closer to Torreflame and his cruelly victorious face.

Randy kicks helplessly, out of range of anything. He claws at his throat and touches no obstruction, but he still _can't inhale_.

His own heartbeat becomes the loudest sound to his ears. Panic drives out any coherent thought, kills anything that isn't, _can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe _–

"What is it, Ninja?" He hears distantly. "No clever quips now?"

Weakly, he reaches into his sash for something, anything to help. But all his fingers touch are sai; and they slip from his grip as his vision starts to go black.

"S-stop...please.." Randy chokes out. He can't – he doesn't want to die here –

– please, someone –

– he needs air, he doesn't want to die, he doesn't –

– anyone, _please _–

Right before Randy faints, several things happen at once.

A stream of fire engulfs the ghost before him, so close to Randy that he feels his already burnt skin _sear_.

Only this time, Randy didn't throw a Tengu fireball. This time, it's all dragon-fire.

Randy smiles as he's dropped. He gasps in beautiful, plentiful air the moment Torreflame screams in pain and loses concentration – and his lungs thank him. He can breathe, he can _breathe_, the spots in his vision recede, and his chest stops feels like it's exploding. It's pretty awesome.

All of Randy's focus is on inhaling, so much so that he can't bring himself to care that he's plummeting towards the ground. Or..not? He catches sight of a blur. Then there's impact; softer than he'd expected.

"Oof!" Randy says, still gasping. He looks up to see jump-suited arms around him, Danny's face above him.

"Got your back, dude."

"Thanks...for...the save." Randy says. He sounds winded enough that Danny's brow creases, but they don't slow in their flight as Danny brings them up and above the action, to a tall building nearby.

Danny does ask, after setting him down,

"Are you okay, RC?"

Randy will never take breathing for granted again. It is the best.

After a second, Randy gives up trying to form an eloquent response and instead gives Danny a thumbs up.

"Never – better."

Danny smiles, lets him have that.

"Hey, at least this isn't Plasmius again." He says.

"Or that Dark dragon...guy."

"Or your stanky Sorcerer."

"I mean...its a wizard?" Randy points out. "I feel like...its kinda the same thing?"

"I thought sorcerers were older. Or was it that wizards need staffs?"

Randy laughs.

So even _Danny _is unclear on the differences.

Finally getting his breath back, Randy straightens, stands near the edge of the building and holds his scarf at the ready.

"I hope you have a plan, bro." Randy says. "Because I can't keep healing party members forever."

Danny's smile turns determined and cool.

"I've got a plan."

* * *

They don't call him this, because it would be beyond lame, but Danny is undeniably the Plan Man (trademark).

Randy can do tactics. He has good ideas in the short term, when bad impulses don't drown them out.

Jake doesn't plan. He has enough of a support system that they can come up with great plans together, emphasis on the _together, _and they do fine as a group. Honestly, when Jake _does _scheme alone, he schemes well. But he usually doesn't bother. He lets plans come to him.

The main reason Danny both can and _does _plan, Randy figures, is Vlad Masters.

Danny has an archenemy that plays chess, that plans ahead, that has beaten him on several occasions. Danny has _had _to plan to win against him. He's had to learn to think long-term. He had no choice.

That's something Randy can respect, but not something he needs for his own villains.

Therefore, with Randy and Jake unwilling to step up and try planning (it's like, a _lot _of work), Danny is the Plan Man.

It's had some limited success.

This time, even after hearing the somewhat vague plan from Danny, Randy is hopeful for a complete success.

It's a good sign then, that as they swing and fly down (respectively), Torreflame is pinned.

Tiny paper charms stick to his forehead, his arms, his chest. They have kanji on them that Randy can't read, but he's seen them before and knows what they do. It makes your bones feel like lead; it feels like gravity is crushing down on you.

Torreflame is upright but immobilized, ground cracking at his feet. He can't move the staff still clutched in his fingers.

Randy grins when he sees it.

"Ninja slice!" He shouts.

It must be a bruce sight, especially from Jake's view on the ground: Randy flips down from the sky, catches himself at the last second with his scarf and a well-timed roll, then leaps forward, bringing his sword down in a wide arc.

The top half of the staff, held downwards, clatters to the earth.

Torreflame shouts through gritted teeth in anger. The charms, already smoking and beginning to burn from his powerful emotions, go up in flames.

"My staff. How _dare _you?!"

"Hey, man, _you _started this." Randy points out. "You should'a stayed out of Norrisville."

Torreflame twitches. The moment the last charm is smoke and dust, he lunges towards Randy.

At the same time, Danny shouts,

"Now!"

All hell breaks loose. Randy fires a steady stream of tengu fireballs and as many blood blossom balls as he has left; Jake, to the left of Torreflame, roars dragonfire at his form; and behind Torreflame are three Danny's, one firing his ghost ray, one screaming his ghostly wail, and one removing the cap off a Fenton thermos.

Danny can duplicate now, something he couldn't really do in high school, but it does have the drawback of weakening his power with every duplicate. That's why he can use the ghostly wail so close to Randy and Jake _– _it hurts, but it doesn't shatter their eardrums, doesn't feel as powerful as usual.

And best of all, it _works_. Will all three throwing everything they can at the Wizard, his ghost form weakens. They can see him fall to his knees amidst the fiery deathtrap they've placed him in.

The Danny with the thermos grins and he points.

"Say goodbye, Hoskelis."

Huh, maybe Randy is the only one who had difficulty saying the wizard's name, he thinks idly.

Torreflame keeps it classic.

He screams,

"Nooo!"

And then he's sucked into the thermos, tucked away where he can't hurt anybody anymore, and this time he can't use his staff to escape.

Danny slaps the cap back on quickly. All three Danny's sigh in relief to see it stick. Almost like catching a Pokemon and making sure it doesn't pop out of the pokeball.

"We did it!" Randy shouts, throwing his hands up in the air. His limbs are more than a little singed and burnt from the battle, so it actually makes him wince, but he doesn't care.

They did it. They _won_.

Nothing is Randy's fault anymore because Danny and Jake and the city are all safe and they _won_.

"Up top, Dannys!" He says. He runs past the three of them and slaps their hands as he passes.

Danny lets him, grinning, before absorbing the other two back into himself.

"Jake, Jake, Jake!" Randy feels compelled to rush over and tackle Jake next in a hug. In dragon form, Jake is taller than him, and also feels scaly and uncomfortable to hug. Randy can't bring himself to care.

"We did it!" He says again, pulling away so he can grin at him. He also scans Jake for any more injuries and relaxes to find none.

"Yo, we actually made it!" Jake says, smiling back. "I don't believe it!"

There's a whole round of hugs and excited shouting and more hugs. Even some happy jumping up and down, which Randy doesn't think is _beneath _them exactly, but it does feel very middle school.

The Secret Trio is back. Jake and Danny stumble over each other, asking questions and teasing and congratulating each other, and so they don't really communicate for a while, they just hug and grin and make unintelligible happy noises at everyone.

It's pretty great, honestly.

They stumble out of the main street square and into an empty alleyway so they can all change back into their other identities.

That post-battle energy carries them down three streets before it bursts.

"Okay, okay okay. Battles over and that's awesome, but this is killing me, so I'm just gonna ask," Jake takes in a deep breath. "Yo, what the hell, RC?!"

Randy stops bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet to stare.

"Um, what?"

"Y-you're the Ninja again!" Jake says loudly. "You said you weren't the Ninja anymore, you've been having like, a total existential crisis about it for _months_, a-and now just poof! You're wearing the mask again like it's no big deal! Where's the other kid? What _happened _?"

Randy feels offended.

"I haven't been having an existential crisis."

Danny tucks the Thermos under one arm and makes a so-so gesture with his other hand.

"You kinda have, man."

"While I resent the totally inaccurate implication," Randy says, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll have you know I'm not the Ninja again. I saw the kid stuck unconscious in the Nomicon and – and I knew you guys needed healing. So I..._ borrowed _the mask."

Jake stares at him. Danny is fighting a smile.

"You stole it!"

"Borrowed." Randy corrects. "I'm going to give it back. Today. In just a minute. Promise."

Randy is so selfish. He's cruel and terrible and _selfish_, because he almost leaves it at this. He almost walks away – again – without saying a word.

There are reasons for it, just like there were reasons last time, and they are still true. He doesn't want to hurt them, he doesn't want to ruin this moment, he doesn't want the last time his fully memoried-self spends with them to be dismal and _sad_, etc.

If Randy's being honest with himself though, the real reason is that he's tired.

He's _exhausted_.

That's laziness talking, he thinks. It's not without warrant. He's emotionally done with all of today, all of this year, maybe, and merely _considering _the amount of emotional energy he'll need to both explain the truth and convince his friends to let this happen leaves him _weary. _

It would be so easy to let things be.

Sometimes, people talk about lying as if it's hard, like it's some great performance you put on – when really, lying is _easy. _Randy doesn't have to do anything to get away with a lie here. It's as simple a matter as closing his mouth.

Randy is the worst friend in the world for actually considering it not once, not twice, but _three times, _before his conscience finally catches and pins him.

It would be unbearably cruel. Jake and Danny are still upset by the last time Randy didn't tell them about this and they stayed friends with him anyway – another lie this big might _break _them, as far as their friendship goes.

Heroes get to ride off into the sunset, never looking back.

Friends stick around. They especially stick around for stuff like this.

"So, there's something you guys should know." Randy starts slowly. "Before I go see the kid."

"What, is the other Ninja gonna try and fight you for stealing the suit?" Danny asks. There's laughter in his tone, seemingly picturing the kid, now suitless, attempting to fist-fight the older and taller Randy.

It's not a bad point, though. The other kid is going to be angry.

"Maybe? Probably." Randy shrugs it off. "But that's not what I wanted to say. Um...you know how like, I was mind-wiped last year and it was super depressing and stressful for everybody?"

Jake loses his smile. Danny starts to glare at him.

"Yeah, dude." Jake rolls his eyes. "We _definitely _remember."

Wow, telling the truth is so awkward sometimes.

"Yes, I know you remember, that was a rhetorical question." Randy rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, nervously toying with his fingers. "Okay. Well, I was the first Ninja in Norrisville history to remember after being mind-wiped. A-and it's great, it's awesome that I remember, but...it came with a condition."

Now Randy can't bring himself to watch his friends. He doesn't want to see their faces fall, doesn't want to see realization creep into their expression, doesn't want them to feel the apprehension and fear that he's slowly beginning to drown in.

It takes more strength than it should for Randy to continue.

"Nomicon let me remember on the promise that I wouldn't so much as talk to the Ninja again." He says. "It's, uh, like a safeguard, because sometimes the power of the Suit can go to people's heads. That's one reason why people don't get to remember being the Ninja, because they have trouble giving up the position."

Boy, do they have trouble with it. It's a special kind of torture, having to go through this twice.

If he'd left well enough alone, he never would have remembered – and he never would've had to forget yet again.

Randy thinks he might be crying. _That's weird_, he thinks, because his lips are still turned up in a smile.

"Like, this is my fault, guys. This is on me." He tells them, still not glancing up. "I called you here and then you got hurt – a-and I wasn't just gonna sit and _watch_. I couldn't."

"I told you so." Danny says. He sounds strange, as though he's proud, even though his voice cracks and something mournful lurks beneath.

"I guess you did."

"So – so what does this mean?" Jake wants to know. "What happens now that you broke your promise?"

Randy swallows hard. He risks a quick look up at his friends, feels his smile strain but not yet fall as he takes in their faces.

"I broke my promise. So I don't get to remember anymore."

Something glimmers in Danny's eyes that looks scarily close to tears, but Jake's dim. Jake's eyes fill with something familiar and accepting and _tired_.

"Wait. But. Just like that?" Danny says.

Randy swallows again and swipes a knuckle under each eye. There's no more denying it. He's crying.

He is such a shoob.

"Just like that." He says.

"B-but do you have to? You could just give the kid the mask back and leave, right? It's not like he can _force _you into the book and _make _you lose your memories!"

This isn't anything that isn't already running through Randy's mind. Jake, gazing steadily at Randy, seems to see it too.

He doesn't ask Randy to remember. He doesn't tell Randy to break his promise. He doesn't tell Randy _how could you_, for doing this to him so soon, for doing this again even though Jake is still furious about it last time.

Jake musters up a smile, that dim, depressed expression still all over his face.

"You told us." Is all he says. "You told us this time."

"You wanted me to."

"Yeah, but you actually did it."

Randy crosses his arms over his chest.

"Hey, I can learn! It just takes me a few tries sometimes."

Levity doesn't last in this atmosphere. It drains, then dissipates, until only a heavy sense of finality hangs over them.

It's the feeling of goodbye. It's the feeling of goodbye _setting in. _

"Howard said last time that we couldn't remind you. That'd it'd be pointless." Danny says haltingly. "But what really happens? Like, say you get mind wiped and we decide to tell you everything. Could you remember that way? Could we bring your memories back?"

Randy tries to tell himself again and again that Danny is his friend, that he's only meaning to help. Somehow, this still feels slow and tortuous – dragging out a pain that could've been over in a moment.

Danny is looking for hope. It's not his fault there's none to be found.

"It's not like amnesia, DP." Randy tells him. "The memories aren't like hidden or fogged over, they're _gone. _They'll be in the Nomicon so my experiences can help train new Ninjas. I'll have...echoes. I'll know something's missing, like, like those negative space drawings in art. But I'll never be able to complete the picture. I'll never get that piece back."

Danny looks as bad as Randy feels. And Randy feels _bad. _

No other Ninja has had this much trouble with the process, have they? Then again, no other Ninja has had close friends to say goodbye to before. Randy's pretty sure of that.

And it hits him. Somehow, along the way, things have flipped. Randy isn't thinking about the Suit, about being a hero, about being the Ninja at all; this time he's not worried about forgetting The Ninja.

This time he's worried solely about forgetting his friends.

Randy hadn't _needed _the Suit, not really. Not to live. Not to be happy. He struggled without it, sure, and watching someone else be the Ninja had hurt like nothing in his life had before.

But he thinks about the last few months – seeing Jake and Danny again, texting them dumb memes, hearing Danny say, _we're here for you _and Jake say, _we're really happy to have you back _and –

– and he realizes that they made things _worth _it. They made the pain bearable.

So it's only far too late that Randy realizes he never needed the Suit.

But he needed them. He _needs _them. Present tense.

He feels his face soften, mouth quirk up in a half-smile.

"You know what? You should tell me anyway."

Danny blinks.

"You guys...you're my friends." Randy tries to explain. "My life is better when you shoobs are in it, okay? I'll never remember, but... I still want to spend time with you guys. And if you can't – if you don't want to deal with pre-ninja Randy, I get it. He's...kind of an idiot."

Jake laughs at that. The sound is choked with tears.

"But if you can, I'd love to meet you guys again. You're...kind of amazing."

Randy once told the Nomicon that he was a better person remembering his time as a Ninja and that's true – but he thinks he's his _best _self remembering his friends.

They've been telling him for months their own versions of _you don't have to let go all the way_. He wants to listen, now.

He wants to hold on to _them_.

"I'm still really mad at you." Jake says, eyes rimmed red. "You really had to go and do something this stupid, didn't you?"

"Hey, you guys were the ones insisting I could still be a hero."

Danny rolls his eyes.

"And you were the one who didn't believe us."

Randy believes them now. He'll never be able to communicate how much their belief in him means, definitely not within the short remaining time that he'll still remember it.

He loves them. He loves both of them for being there, for not giving up, for forgiving him when he does stupid things.

A lump rises in his throat. He realizes they never answered his offer and thinks maybe that's the answer in itself.

Glancing down at the mask in his hands, he feels a sudden, overwhelming urge to just run.

He could just run. He could take the mask, he _should _take the mask, he's better at it – and he could go somewhere the Nomicon would never find him and he wouldn't have to lose his memories and he could still be a hero and –

No. _No_. Norrisville needs the Ninja, what is he thinking?

Norrisville already has a Ninja.

And it's _not _Randy anymore.

He realizes he's stalling for time, standing still in an alleyway with a stolen magical mask warm in his hands.

"I need to give it back." He whispers.

"Right now?" Danny asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, I can't – I need to give it back. If I don't do it soon I...might never do it."

It's not clear to Randy whether the power of the Suit is corrupting him or whether this terrible, irresistible desire is all him, clinging to his past, but he does know that it doesn't matter.

A true Ninja keeps his promises; and when he can't, he apologizes.

Nomicon is owed an apology. The new Ninja is owed an apology.

And Randy isn't going to be strong enough to make them for much longer, not when he has a way out and has friends pushing him towards it.

For a second time that hour, Randy wipes away tears from his face and turns to make his goodbyes.

"We'll go with you, then." Jake says suddenly.

Randy feels his mouth fall open.

"R-really?"

"Of course '_ really _', you shoob." Danny says, walking over to wrap an arm around Randy's shoulder.

"You aren't getting rid of us that easy." Jake blinks, frowns, and amends, "Again."

Randy grins until his cheeks hurt.

"Alright, but don't go trying to prank memoryless!me for payback, okay? Howard still remembers everything and he'll see it coming."

Danny laughs at him, lets him go.

"There are ways of bringing Howard around."

It doesn't feel the same as last time, walking towards oblivion – nor does it feel like a stroll to the gallows, which he will admit, is a bit dramatic, even for him.

This isn't death. This isn't torture. This is him owning up to his decisions with supportive friends by his side.

This is how things could have gone before. This is how things _should _have gone, if Randy would've been honest and open with them.

Well. At least he got it right this one last time.

* * *

**A/N:** Ahh, guys! I did it! I'm proud that I actually finished something this long. I know this ending was probably not what people were hoping for, but it's actually what I had in mind from this start of this fic.

If you want to believe that maybe the Nomicon was nice that day and gave Randy a pass, go for it. It wouldn't be the first time the Nomicon gave Randy a second or third chance.

As for where Randy goes next (memories or not), he learns the art of side-kick-ing from Sam and Tucker, gets some cool ghost-fighting tech from Danny's parents, and eventually joins a dojo to learn an official fighting style. He doesn't have a magic suit anymore, but he's still gotta do something with those heroic tendencies, and there are a lot of bad people in the world that need fightin'. Danny and Jake (and Howard, somewhat reluctantly) support him on this.

I might write more in this universe one day, but for now I got nothing.

Last thing - I apologize for my attempt at a villain in this chapter! I tried. Halfheartedly, but still.

Thank you again for joining me on this journey!


End file.
